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BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

o 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


Altf.  FiCTIOH 
COLLESIIOH 
KQT  FC3  USE 


THE  FLYING  U'S 
LAST  STAND 


Do  you  know  where  the  bunch  is  ?     I'm  lookin'  for 
the  bunch."     FRONTISPIECE.     See  Page  254. 


THE  FLYING  U'S 
LAST  STAND 


BY 

B.  M.  BOWER 

Author  of  "Chip,  of  the  Flying  U,"  "The  Ranch 
at  the  Wolverine,"  etc. 


WITH    FRONTISPIECE    BY 
ANTON  OTTO  FISCHER 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY 

1915 


Copyright,  1915, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved 


•Published 


PRESSWORK   BY 
C.   H.   8IMONDS   CO.,   BOSTON,   U.  8. 


n  r  /•  r  v 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I    OLD  WAYS  AND  NEW 1 

II    ANDY  GREEK'S  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE 7 

III  THE  KID  LEAENS  SOME  THINGS  ABOUT  HOESES     .     24 

IV  ANDY  TAKES  A  HAND  IN  THE  GAME 41 

V    THE  HAPPY  FAMILY  TURN  NESTEES 57 

VI    THE  FIEST  BLOW  IN  THE  FIGHT 73 

VII    THE  COMING  OF  THE  COLONY 84 

VIII  FLORENCE  GRACE  HALLMAN  SPEAKS  PLAINLY   .      .103 

IX  THE  HAPPY  FAMILY  BUYS  A  BUNCH  OF  CATTLE   .   120 

X  WHEREIN  ANDY  GREEN  LIES  TO  A  LADY  .      .     .     .128 

XI    A  MOVING  CHAPTER  IN  EVENTS 140 

XII  SHACKS,  LIVE  STOCK  AND  PILGEIMS  PROMPTLY  AND 

PAINFULLY  REMOVED 156 

XIII  IRISH  WORKS  FOE  THE  CAUSE 173 

XIV  JUST  ONE  THING  AFTER  ANOTHER     .     .     .     .     .192 
XV    THE  KID  HAS  IDEAS  OF  His  OWN 209 

XVI     "A  HELL  OLD  COWPUNCHER" 224 

XVII    "LOST  CHILD!" 231 

XVIII  THE   LONG   WAY   ROUND    ........  248 

XIX    HEE  NAME  WAS   ROSEMARY 261 

XX  THE  RELL  OLE  COWPUNCHER  GOES  HOME  .     .     .272 

XXI    THE  FIGHT  GOES   ON 279 

XXII    LAWFUL   IMPROVEMENTS 287 

XXIII  THE  WATER  QUESTION  AND  SOME  GOSSIP   .      .      .  296 

XXIV  THE  KID  is  USED  FOR  A  PAWN  IN  THE  GAME  .     .  307 
XXV  "LITTLE  BLACK  SHACK'S  ALL  BURNT  UP!  "    .     .  320 

XXVI  ROSEMARY  ALLEN  DOES  A  SMALL  SUM  IN  ADDITION  329 

XXVII    "IT'S  AWFUL  EASY  TO  GET  LOST" 338 

XXVIII    As  IT  TURNED  OUT  . 34» 


\  X  k 


The  Flying  U's  Last 
Stand 


CHAPTER  I  •,.  A-..::*  vK:' 

OLD    WAYS    AND    NEW 

PROGRESS  is  like  the  insidious  change  from 
youth  to  old  age,  except  that  progress  does  not 
mean  decay.  The  change  that  is  almost  imperceptible 
and  yet  inexorable  is  much  the  same,  however.  You 
will  see  a  community  apparently  changeless  as  the 
years  pass  by;  and  yet,  when  the  years  have  gone  and 
you  look  back,  there  has  been  a  change.  It  is  not  the 
same.  It  never  will  be  the  same.  It  can  pass  through 
further  change,  but  it  cannot  go  back.  Men  look  back, 
sick  sometimes  with  longing  for  the  things  that  were 
and  that  can  be  no  more;  they  live  the  old  days  in 
memory  —  but  try  as  they  will  they  may  not  go  back. 
With  intelligent,  persistent  effort  they  may  retard  fur- 
ther change  considerably,  but  that  is  the  most  that  they 
can  hope  to  do.  Civilization  and  Time  will  continue 
the  march  in  spite  of  all  that  man  may  do. 


2      FLYING    TTS    LAST    STAND 

That  is  the  way  it  was  with  the  Flying  U.  Old  J.  G. 
Whitmore  fought  doggedly  against  the  changing  con- 
ditions —  and  he  fought  intelligently  and  well.  When 
he  saw  the  range  dwindling  and  the  way  to  the  water- 
ing places  barred  against  his  cattle  with  long  stretches 
•of  barbed  wire,  he  sent  his  herds  deeper  into  the  Bad- 
lands to  seek  what  grazing  was  in  the  hidden,  little 
yfclleys  and  th^  .deep,  sequestered  canyons.  He  cut 
more  hay  for  winter  feeding,  and  he  sowed  his  meadows 
to  alfalfa  that  he  might  increase  the  crops.  He  shipped 
old  cows  and  dry  cows  with  his  fat  steers  in  the  fall, 
and  he  bettered  the  blood  of  his  herds  and  raised  bigger 
cattle.  Therefore,  if  his  cattle  grew  fewer  in  number, 
they  improved  in  quality  and  prices  went  higher,  so  that 
the  result  was  much  the  same. 

It  began  to  look,  then,  as  though  J.  GL  Whitmore 
was  cunningly  besting  the  situation,  and  was  going  to 
hold  out  indefinitely  against  the  encroachments  of 
civilization  upon  the  old  order  of  things  on  the  range. 
And  it  had  begun  to  look  as  though  he  was  going  to  best 
Time  at  his  own  game,  and  refuse  also  to  grow  old; 
as  though  he  would  go  on  being  the  same  pudgy,  griz- 
zled, humorously  querulous  Old  Man  beloved  of  his 
men,  the  Happy  Family  of  the  Flying  U. 

Sometimes,  however,  Time  will  fill  a  four-flush  with 
the  joker,  and  then  laugh  while  he  rakes  in  the  chips. 


OLD    WAYS    AND    NEW  3 

J.  G.  Whitmore  had  been  going  his  way  and  refusing 
to  grow  old  for  a  long  time  —  and  then  an  accident, 
which  is  Time's  joker,  turned  the  game  against  him. 
He  stood  for  just  a  second  too  long  on  a  crowded  cross- 
ing in  Chicago,  hesitating  between  going  forward  or 
back.  And  that  second  gave  Time  a  chance  to  play  an 
accident.  A  big  seven-passenger  touring  car  mowed 
him  down  and  left  him  in  a  heap  for  the  ambulance 
from  the  nearest  hospital  to  gather  on  its  stretcher. 

The  Old  Man  did  not  die;  he  had  lived  long  on  the 
open  range  and  he  was  pretty  tough  and  hard  to  kill. 
He  went  back  to  his  beloved  Flying  U,  with  a  crutch 
to  help  him  shuffle  from  bed  to  easy  chair  and  back 
again. 

The  Little  Doctor,  who  was  his  youngest  sister, 
nursed  him  tirelessly;  but  it  was  long  before  there 
came  a  day  when  the  Old  Man  gave  his  crutch  to  the 
Kid  to  use  for  a  stick-horse,  and  walked  through  the 
living  room  and  out  upon  the  porch  with  the  help  of  a 
cane  and  the  solicitous  arm  of  the  Little  Doctor,  and 
with  the  Kid  galloping  gleefully  before  him  on  the 
crutch. 

Later  he  discarded  the  help  of  somebody's  arm,  and 
hobbled  down  to  the  corral  with  the  cane,  and  with  the 
Kid  still  galloping  before  him  on  "  Uncle  Gee-Gee's  " 
crutch.  He  stood  for  some  time  leaning  against  the 


4      FLYING   IPS    LAST    STAND 

corral  watching  some  of  the  boys  halter-breaking  a 
horse  that  was  later  to  be  sold  —  when  he  was  "  broke 
gentle  " — and  then  he  hobbled  back  again,  thankful 
for  the  soft  comfort  of  his  big  chair. 

That  was  well  enough,  as  far  as  it  went.  The  Fly- 
ing U  took  it  for  granted  that  the  Old  Man  was  slowly 
returning  to  the  old  order  of  life,  when  rheumatism  was 
his  only  foe  and  he  could  run  things  with  his  old  energy 
and  easy  good  management.  But  there  never  came  a 
day  when  the  Old  Man  gave  his  cane  to  the  Kid  to 
play  with.  There  never  came  a  day  when  he  was  not 
thankful  for  the  soft  comfort  of  his  chair.  There  never 
came  a  day  when  he  was  the  same  Old  Man  who  joshed 
the  boys  and  scolded  them  and  threatened  them.  The 
day  was  always  coming  —  of  course !  —  when  his  back 
would  quit  aching  if  he  walked  to  the  stable  and  back 
without  a  long  rest  between,  but  it  never  actually 
arrived. 

So,  imperceptibly  but  surely,  the  Old  Man  began  to 
grow  old.  The  thin  spot  on  top  of  his  head  grew 
shiny,  so  that  the  Kid  noticed  it  and  made  blunt  com- 
ments upon  the  subject.  His  rheumatism  was  not  his 
worst  foe,  now.  He  had  to  pet  his  digestive  apparatus 
and  cut  out  strong  coffee  with  three  heaping  teaspoons 
of  sugar  in  each  cup,  because  the  Little  Doctor  told  him 
his  liver  was  torpid.  He  had  to  stop  giving  the  Kid 


OLD    WAYS    AND    NEW  5 

jolty  rides  on  his  knees, —  but  that  was  because  the  Kid 
was  getting  too  big  for  baby  play,  the  Old  Man  de- 
clared. The  Kid  was  big  enough  to  ride  real  horses, 
now,  and  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  ride  knee-horses 
any  more. 

To  two  things  the  Old  Man  clung  almost  fiercely; 
the  old  regime  of  ranging  his  cattle  at  large  and  start- 
ing out  the  wagons  in  the  spring  just  the  same  as  if 
twenty-five  men  instead  of  twelve  went  with  them ;  and 
the  retention  of  the  Happy  Family  on  his  payroll,  just 
as  if  they  were  actually  needed.  If  one  of  the  boys 
left  to  try  other  things  and  other  fields,  the  Old  Man 
considered  him  gone  on  a  vacation  and  expected  him 
back  when  spring  roundup  approached. 

True,  he  was  seldom  disappointed  in  that.  For  the 
Happy  Family  looked  upon  the  Flying  U  as  home,  and 
six  months  was  about  the  limit  for  straying  afar.  Cow- 
punchers  to  the  bone  though  they  were,  they  bent  backs 
over  irrigating  ditches  and  sweated  in  the  hayfields 
just  for  the  sake  of  staying  together  on  the  ranch.  I 
cannot  say  that  they  did  it  uncomplainingly  —  for  the 
bunk-house  was  saturated  to  the  ridge-pole  with  their 
maledictions  while  they  compared  blistered  hands  and 
pitchfork  callouses,  and  mourned  the  days  that  were 
gone ;  the  days  when  they  rode  far  and  free  and  scorned 
any  work  that  could  not  be  done  from  the  saddle.  But 


6      FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

they  stayed,  and  they  did  the  ranch  work  as  well  as  the 
range  work,  which  is  the  main  point. 

They  became  engaged  to  certain  girls  who  filled  their 
dreams  and  all  their  waking  thoughts  — but  they  never 
quite  came  to  the  point  of  marrying  and  going  their 
way.  Except  Pink,  who  did  marry  impulsively  and 
unwisely,  and  who  suffered  himself  to  be  bullied  and 
called  Percy  for  seven  months  or  so,  and  who  balked 
at  leaving  the  Flying  U  for  the  city  and  a  vicarious  ex- 
istence in  theaterdom,  and  so  found  himself  free  quite 
as  suddenly  as  he  had  been  tied. 

They  intended  to  marry  and  settle  down  —  some- 
time. But  there  was  always  something  in  the  way  of 
carrying  those  intentions  to  fulfilment,  so  that  event- 
ually the  majority  of  the  Happy  Family  found  them- 
selves not  even  engaged,  but  drifting  along  toward 
permanent  bachelorhood.  Being  of  the  optimistic  type, 
however,  they  did  not  worry;  Pink  having  set  before 
them  a  fine  example  of  the  failure  of  marriage  and  hav- 
ing returned  with  manifest  relief  to  the  freedom  of 
the  bunk-house. 


CHAPTER  II 

ANDY  GREEK'S  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE 

ANDY  GKEEN,  chief  prevaricator  of  the  Happy 
Family  of  the  Elying  U  —  and  not  ashamed  of 
either  title  or  connection  —  pushed  his  new  Stetson 
back  off  his  untanned  forehead,  attempted  to  negotiate 
the  narrow  passage  into  a  Pullman  sleeper  with  his 
suitcase  swinging  from  his  right  hand,  and  hutted  into 
a  woman  who  was  just  emerging  from  the  dressing- 
room.  He  butted  into  her  so  emphatically  that  he  was 
compelled  to  swing  his  left  arm  out  very  quickly,  or  see 
her  go  headlong  into  the  window  opposite;  for  a  full- 
sized  suitcase  propelled  forward  by  a  muscular  young 
man  may  prove  a  very  efficient  instrument  of  disaster, 
especially  if  it  catches  one  just  in  the  hollow  back  of  the 
knee.  The  woman  tottered  and  grasped  Andy  con- 
vulsively to  save  herself  a  fall,  and  so  they  stood  block- 
ing the  passage  until  the  porter  arrived  and  took  the 
suitcase  from  Andy  with  a  tip-inviting  deference. 

Andy    apologized    profusely,    with    a    quaint,    cow- 
punchery  phrasing  that  caused  the  woman  to  take  a  sec- 


8      FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

ond  look  at  him.  And,  since  Andy  Green  would  look 
good  to  any  woman  capable  of  recognizing  —  and  appre- 
ciating —  a  real  man  when  she  saw  him,  she  smiled  and 
said  it  didn't  matter  in  the  least. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  the  acquaintance.  Andy 
took  her  by  her  plump,  chiffon-veiled  arm  and  piloted 
her  to  her  seat,  and  he  afterward  tipped  the  porter  gen- 
erously and  had  his  own  belongings  deposited  in  the 
section  across  the  aisle.  Then,  with  the  guile  of  a 
foreign  diplomat,  he  betook  himself  to  the  smoking-room 
and  stayed  there  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  He  was 
not  taking  any  particular  risk  of  losing  the  opportunity 
of  an  unusually  pleasant  journey,  for  the  dollar  he  had 
invested  in  the  goodwill  of  the  porter  had  yielded  the 
information  that  the  lady  was  going  through  to  Great 
Falls.  Since  Andy  had  boarded  the  train  at  Harlem 
there  was  plenty  of  time  to  kill  between  there  and  Dry 
Lake,  which  was  his  destination. 

The  lady  smiled  at  him  rememberingly  when  finally 
he  seated  himself  across  the  aisle  from  her,  and  with- 
out any  serious  motive  Andy  smiled  back.  So  presently 
they  were  exchanging  remarks  about  the  journey. 
Later  on,  Andy  went  over  and  sat  beside  her  and  conver- 
sation began  in  earnest.  Her  name,  it  transpired,  was 
[Florence  Grace  Hallman.  Andy  read  it  engraved  upon 
a  card  which  added  the  information  that  she  was  en- ' 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE       9 

gaged  in  the  real  estate  business  —  or  so  the  three  or 
four  words  implied.  "  Homeseekers'  Syndicate,  Min- 
neapolis and  St.  Paul,"  said  the  card.  Andy  was 
visibly  impressed  thereby.  He  looked  at  her  with 
swift  appraisement  and  decided  that  she  was  "  all  to 
the  good." 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  was  tall  and  daintily  muscu- 
lar as  to  figure.  Her  hair  was  a  light  yellow  —  not 
quite  the  shade  which  peroxide  gives,  and  therefore 
probably  natural.  Her  eyes  were  brown,  a  shade  too 
close  together  but  cool  and  calm  and  calculating  in  their 
gaze,  and  her  eyebrows  slanted  upward  a  bit  at  the  outer 
ends  and  were  as  heavy  as  beauty  permitted.  Her  lips 
were  very  red,  and  her  chin  was  very  firm.  She  looked 
the  successful  business  woman  to  her  fingertips,  and  she 
was  eminently  attractive  for  a  woman  of  that  self- 
assured  type. 

Andy  was  attractive  also,  in  a  purely  Western  way. 
His  gray  eyes  were  deceivingly  candid  and  his  voice 
was  pleasant  with  a  little,  humorous  drawl  that  matched 
well  the  quirk  of  his  lips  when  he  talked.  He  was 
headed  for  home  —  which  was  the  Flying  U  —  sober 
and  sunny  and  with  enough  money  to  see  him  through. 
He  told  Florence  Hallman  his  name,  and  said  that  he 
lived  "  up  the  road  a  ways  "  without  being  too  definite. 
Florence  Hallman  lived  in  Minneapolis,  she  said; 


10    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

though  she  traveled  most  of  the  time,  in  the  interests  of 
her  firm. 

Yes,  she  liked  the  real  estate  business.  One  had  a 
chance  to  see  the  world,  and  keep  in  touch  with  people 
and  things.  She  liked  the  West  especially  well.  Since 
her  firm  had  taken  up  the  homeseekers'  line  she  spent 
most  of  her  time  in  the  West. 

They  had  supper  —  she  called  it  dinner,  Andy  ob- 
served—  together,  and  Andy  Green  paid  the  check, 
which  was  not  so  small.  It  was  after  that,  when  they 
became  more  confidential,  that  Florence  Hallman,  with 
the  egotism  of  the  successful  person  who  believes  her- 
self or  himself  to  be  of  keen  interest  to  the  listener, 
spoke  in  greater  detail  of  her  present  mission. 

Her  firm's  policy  was,  she  said,  to  locate  a  large 
tract  of  government  land  somewhere,  and  then  organize 
a  homeseekers'  colony,  and  settle  the  land-hungry  upon 
the  tract  —  at  so  much  per  hunger.  She  thought  it  a 
great  scheme  for  both  sides  of  the  transaction.  The 
men  who  wanted  claims  got  them.  The  firm  got  the 
fee  for  showing  them  the  land  —  and  certain  other  per- 
quisites at  which  she  merely  hinted. 

She  thought  that  Andy  himself  would  be  a  success 
at  the  business.  She  was  quick  to  form  her  opinions  of 
people  whom  she  met,  and  she  knew  that  Andy  was  just 
the  man  for  such  work.  Andy,  listening  with  his  can- 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     11 

did,  gray  eyes  straying  often  to  her  face  and  dwelling 
there,  modestly  failed  to  agree  with  her.  '  He  did  not 
know  the  first  thing  about  the  real  estate  business,  he 
confessed,  nor  very  much  about  ranching.  Oh,  yes  — 
he  lived  in  this  country,  and  he  knew  that  pretty  well, 
but  — 

"  The  point  is  right  here,"  said  Florence  Grace  Hall- 
man,  laying  her  pink  fingertips  upon  his  arm  and 
glancing  behind  her  to  make  sure  that  they  were  prac- 
tically alone  —  their  immediate  neighbors  being  still  in 
the  diner.  "  Fm  speaking  merely  upon  impulse  — 
which  isn't  a  wise  thing  to  do,  ordinarily.  But  —  well, 
your  eyes  vouch  for  you,  Mr.  Green,  and  we  women  are 
bound  to  act  impulsively  sometimes  —  or  we  wouldn't 
be  women,  would  we  ?  "  She  laughed  —  rather,  she 
gave  a  little,  infectious  giggle,  and  took  away  her 
fingers,  to  the  regret  of  Andy  who  liked  the  feel  of  them 
on  his  forearm. 

"  The  point  is  here.  I've  recognized  the  fact,  all 
along,  that  we  need  a  man  stationed  right  here,  living 
in  the  country,  who  will  meet  prospective  homesteaders 
and  talk  farming ;  keep  up  their  enthusiasm ;  whip  the 
doubters  into  line ;  talk  climate  and  soil  and  the  future 
of  the  country ;  look  the  part,  you  understand." 

"  So  I  look  like  a  rube,  do  I  ?  "  Andy's  lips  quirked  a 
half  smile  at  her. 


12    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  No,  of  course  you  don't !  "     She  laid  her  fingers 
on  his  sleeve  again,  which  was  what  Andy  wanted  - 
what  he  had  intended  to  bait  her  into  doing;  thereby 
proving  that,  in  some  respects  at  least,  he  amply  justified 
Miss  Hallman  in  her  snap  judgment  of  him. 

"  Of  course  you  don't  look  like  a  rube !  I  don't 
want  you  to.  But  you  do  look  Western  —  because  you 
are  Western  to  the  bone.  Besides,  you  look  perfectly 
dependable.  Nobody  could  look  into  your  eyes  and 
even  think  of  doubting  the  truth  of  any  statement  you 
made  to  them."  Andy  snickered  mentally  at  that 
though  his  eyes  never  lost  their  clear  candor.  "  And," 
she  concluded,  "  being  a  bona  fide  resident  of  the  coun- 
try, your  word  would  carry  more  weight  than  mine, 
if  I  were  to  talk  myself  black  in  the  face !  " 

"  That's  where  you're  dead  wrong,"  Andy  hastened 
to  correct  her. 

"  Well,  you  must  let  me  have  my  own  opinion,  Mr. 
Green.  You  would  be  convincing  enough,  at  any  rate. 
You  see,  there  is  a  certain  per  cent,  of  —  let  us  call  it 
waste  effort  —  in  this  colonization  business.  We  have 
to  reckon  on  a  certain  number  of  nibblers  who  won't 
bite — "  Andy's  honest,  gray  eyes  widened  a  hair's 
breadth  at  the  frankness  of  her  language  — "  when  they 
get  out  here.  They  swallow  the  folders  we  send  out, 
but  when  they  get  out  here  and  see  the  country,  they 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     13 

can't  see  it  as  a  rich  farming  district,  and  they  won't 
invest.  They  go  back  home  and  knock,  if  they  do  any- 
thing. 

"  My  idea  is  to  stop  that  waste ;  to  land  every  home- 
seeker  that  boards  our  excursion  trains.  And  I  believe 
the  way  to  do  that  is  to  have  the  right  kind  of  a  man 
out  here,  steer  the  doubtfuls  against  him  —  and  let  his 
personality  and  his  experience  do  the  rest.  They're 
hungry  enough  to  come,  you  see;  the  thing  is  to  keep 
them  here.  A  man  that  lives  right  here,  that  has  all 
the  earmarks  of  the  West,  and  is  not  known  to  be 
affiliated  with  our  Syndicate  (you  could  have  rigs  to 
hire,  and  drive  the  doubtfuls  to  the  tract)  —  don't  you 
see  what  an  enormous  advantage  he'd  have  ?  The  class 
I  speak  of  are  the  suspicious  ones  —  those  who  are  from 
Missouri.  They're  inclined  to  want  salt  with  what  we 
say  about  the  resources  of  the  country.  Even  our 
chemical  analysis  of  the  soil,  and  weather  bureau  dope, 
don't  go  very  far  with  those  hicks.  They  want  to  talk 
with  someone  who  has  tried  it,  you  see." 

"I  —  see,"  said  Andy  thoughtfully,  and  his  eyes 
narrowed  a  trifle.  "  On  the  square,  Miss  Hallman, 
what  are  the  natural  advantages  out  here  —  for  farm- 
ing ?  What  line  of  talk  do  you  give  those  come-ons  ?  " 

Miss  Hallman  laughed  and  made  a  very  pretty  ges- 
ture with  her  two  ringed  hands.  "  Whatever  sounds  the 


14    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

"best  to  them/'  she  said.  "  If  they  write  and  ask  about 
spuds,  we  come  back  with  illustrated  folders  of  potato 
crops  and  statistics  of  average  yields  and  prices  and 
all  that.  If  it's  dairy,  we  have  dairy  folders.  And 
so  on.  It  isn't  any  fraud  —  there  are  sections  of  the 
country  that  produce  almost  anything,  from  alfalfa 
to  strawberries.  You  know  that,"  she  challenged. 

"  Sure.  But  I  didn't  know  there  was  much  tillable 
land  left  lying  around  loose,"  he  ventured  to  say. 

Again  Miss  Hallman  made  the  pretty  gesture,  which 
might  mean  much  or  nothing.  "  There's  plenty  of  land 
'  lying  around  loose,'  as  you  call  it.  How  do  you  know 
it  won't  produce,  till  it  has  been  tried  ?  " 

"  That's  right,"  Andy  assented  uneasily.  "  If 
there's  water  to  put  on  it  — " 

"  And  since  there  is  the  land,  our  business  lies  in 
getting  people  located  on  it.  The  towns  and  the  rail- 
roads are  back  of  us.  That  is,  they  look  with  favor 
upon  bringing  settlers  into  the  country.  It  increases 
the  business  of  the  country  —  the  traffic,  the  freights, 
the  merchants'  business,  everything." 

Andy  puckered  his  eyebrows  and  looked  out  of  the 
window  upon  a  great  stretch  of  open,  rolling  prairie, 
clothed  sparely  in  grass  that  was  showing  faint  green 
in  the  hollows,  and  with  no  water  for  miles  —  as  he 
knew  well  —  except  for  the  rivers  that  hurried  through 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     15 

narrow  bottom  lands  guarded  by  higb  bluffs  that  were 
for  the  most  part  barren.  The  land  was  there,  all  right. 
But- 

"  What  I  can't  see,"  he  observed  after  a  minute  dur- 
ing which  Miss  Florence  Hallman  studied  his  averted 
face,  "  what  I  can't  see  is,  where  do  the  settlers  get 
off  at  ? " 

"  At  Easy  Street,  if  they're  lucky  enough,"  she  told 
him  lightly.  "  My  business  is  to  locate  them  on  the 
land.  Getting  a  living  off  it  is  their  business.  And," 
she  added  defensively,  "  people  do  make  a  living  on 
ranches  out  here." 

"  That's  right,"  he  agreed  again  —  he  was  finding  it 
very  pleasant  to  agree  with  Florence  Grace  Hallman. 
"  Mostly  off  stock,  though." 

"  Yes,  and  we  encourage  our  clients  to  bring  out  all 
the  young  stock  they  possibly  can;  young  cows  and 
horses  and  —  all  that  sort  of  thing.  There's  quantities 
of  open  country  around  here,  that  even  the  most  opti- 
mistic of  homeseekers  would  never  think  of  filing  on. 
They  can  make  out,  all  right,  I  guess.  We  certainly 
urge  them  strongly  to  bring  stock  with  them.  It's  al- 
ways been  famous  as  a  cattle  country  —  that's  one  of 
our  highest  cards.  We  tell  them  — " 

"  How  do  you  do  that  ?  Do  you  go  right  to  them  and 
talk  to  them  ?  " 


16    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Yes,  if  they  show  a  strong  enough  interest  —  and 
bank  account.  I  follow  up  the  best  prospects  and  visit 
them  in  person.  I've  talked  to  fifty  horny-handed  hoe- 
men  in  the  past  month." 

"  Then  I  don't  see  what  you  need  of  anyone  to  bring 
up  the  drag/'  Andy  told  her  admiringly.  "  If  you 
talk  to  'em,  there  oughtn't  be  any  drag !  " 

"  Thank  you  for  the  implied  compliment.  But  there 
is  a  '  drag,'  as  you  call  it.  There's  going  to  be  a  big  one, 
too,  I'm  afraid  —  when  they  get  out  and  see  this  tract 
we're  going  to  work  off  this  spring."  She  stopped  and 
studied  him  as  a  chess  player  studies  the  board. 

"  I'm  very  much  tempted  to  tell  you  something  I 
shouldn't  tell,"  she  said  at  length,  lowering  her  voice 
a  little.  Remember,  Andy  Green  was  a  very  good 
looking  man,  and  his  eyes  were  remarkable  for  their 
clear,  candid  gaze  straight  into  your  own  eyes.  Even 
as  keen  a  business  woman  as  Florence  Grace  Hallman 
must  be  forgiven  for  being  deceived  by  them.  "  I'm 
tempted  to  tell  you  where  this  tract  is.  You  may 
know  it." 

"  You  better  not,  unless  you're  willing  to  take  a 
chance,"  he  told  her  soberly.  "  If  it  looks  too  good, 
I'm  liable  to  jump  it  myself." 

Miss  Hallman  laughed  and  twisted  her  red  lips  at 
him  in  what  might  be  construed  as  a  flirtatious  manner. 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     17 

She  was  really  quite  taken  with  Andy  Green.  "  I'll 
take  a  chance.  I  don't  think  you'll  jump  it.  Do  you 
know  anything  about  Dry  Lake,  up  above  Havre,  to- 
ward Great  Falls  —  and  the  country  out  east  of  there, 
towards  the  mountains  ?  " 

The  fingers  of  Andy  Green  closed  into  his  palms. 
His  eyes,  however,  continued  to  look  into  hers  with  his 
most  guileless  expression. 

"  Y-es  —  that  is,  I've  ridden  over  it,"  he  acknowl- 
edged simply. 

"  Well  —  now  this  is  a  secret ;  at  least  we  don't  want 
those  mossback  ranchers  in  there  to  get  hold  of  it  too 
soon,  though  they  couldn't  really  do  anything,  since 
it's  all  government  land  and  the  lease  has  only  just  run 
out.  There's  a  high  tract  lying  between  the  Bear 
Paws  and  —  do  you  know  where  the  Flying  U  ranch 
is?" 

"  About  where  it  is  —  yes." 

"  Well,  it's  right  up  there  on  that  plateau  —  bench, 
you  call  it  out  here.  There  are  several  thousand  acres 
along  in  there  that  we're  locating  settlers  on  this  spring. 
We're  just  waiting  for  the  grass  to  get  nice  and  green, 
and  the  prairie  to  get  all  covered  with  those  blue,  blue 
wind  flowers,  and  the  meadow  larks  to  get  busy  with 
their  nests,  and  then  we're  going  to  bring  them  out 
and — "  She  spread  her  hands  again.  It  seemed  a 


18    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

favorite  gesture  grown  into  a  habit,  and  it  surely  was 
more  eloquent  than  words.  "  These  prairies  will  be  a 
dream  of  beauty,  in  a  little  while/'  she  said.  "  Fm  to 
watch  for  the  psychological  time  to  bring  out  the  seek- 
ers. And  if  I  could  just  interest  you,  Mr.  Green,  to 
the  extent  of  being  somewhere  around  Dry  Lake,  with  a 
good  team  that  you  will  drive  for  hire  and  some  samples 
of  oats  and  dry-land  spuds  and  stuff  that  you  raised  on 
your  claim — '  She  eyed  him  sharply  for  one  so  en- 
dearingly feminine.  "  Would  you  do  it  ?  There' d  be 
a  salary,  and  besides  that  a  commission  on  each  doubter 
you  landed.  And  I'd  just  love  to  have  you  for  one  of 
my  assistants." 

"  It  sure  sounds  good,"  Andy  flirted  with  the  proposi- 
tion, and  let  his  eyes  soften  appreciably  to  meet  her  last 
sentence  and  the  tone  in  which  she  spoke  it.  "  Do  you 
think  I  could  get  by  with  the  right  line  of  talk  with 
the  doubters  ? " 

"  I  think  you  could,"  she  said,  and  in  her  voice  there 
was  a  cooing  note.  "  Study  up  a  little  on  the  right 
dope,  and  I  think  you  could  convince  —  even  me." 

"  Could  I  ?  "  Andy  Green  knew  that  cooing  note, 
himself,  and  one  a  shade  more  provocative.  "  I  won- 
der!" 

A  man  came  down  the  aisle  at  that  moment,  gave 
Andy  a  keen  glance  and  went  on  with  a  cigar  between 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     19 

his  fingers.  Andy  scowled  frankly,  sighed  and  straight- 
ened his  shoulders. 

"  That's  what  I  call  hard  luck/7  he  grumbled.  "  I've 
got  to  see  that  man  before  he  gets  off  the  train  —  and 
the  h —  worst  of  it  is,  I  don't  know  just  what  station 
he'll  get  off  at."  He  sighed  again.  "  I've  got  a  deal 
on,"  he  told  her  confidentially,  "  that's  sure  going  to 
keep  me  humping  if  I  pull  loose  so  as  to  go  in  with 
you.  How  long  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Probably  two  weeks,  the  way  spring  is  opening  up, 
out  here.  I'd  want  you  to  get  perfectly  familiar  with 
our  policy  and  the  details  of  our  scheme  before  they 
land.  I'd  want  you  to  be  familiar  with  that  tract,  and 
be  able  to  show  up  its  best  points  when  you  take  seekers 
out  there.  You'd  be  so  much  better  than  one  of  our 
own  men,  who  have  the  word  c  agent '  written  all  over 
them.  You'll  come  back  and  —  talk  it  over,  won't 
you  ? "  For  Andy  was  showing  unmistakable  symp- 
toms of  leaving  her  to  follow  the  man. 

"  You  know  it,"  he  declared  in  a  tone  of  intimacy. 
"  I  won't  sleep  nights  till  this  thing  is  settled  —  and 
settled  right."  He  gave  her  a  smile  that  rather  dazzled 
the  lady,  got  up  with  much  reluctance  and  with  a  glance 
that  had  in  it  a  certain  element  of  longing  went 
swaying  down  the  aisle  after  the  man  who  had  preceded 
him. 


20    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Andy's  business  with  the  man  consisted  solely  in  mix- 
ing cigarette  smoke  with  cigar  smoke  and  of  helping 
to  stare  moodily  out  of  the  window.  Words  there  were 
none,  save  when  Andy  was  proffered  a  match  and  mut- 
tered his  thanks.  The  silent  session  lasted  for  half 
an  hour.  Then  the  man  got  up  and  went  out,  and  the 
breath  of  Andy  Green  paused  behind  his  nostrils  un- 
til he  saw  that  the  man  went  only  to  the  first  section  in 
the  car  and  settled  there  behind  a  spread  newspaper, 
invisible  to  Florence  Grace  Hallman  unless  she 
searched  the  car  and  peered  over  the  top  of  the  paper 
to  see  who  was  behind. 

After  that  Andy  Green  continued  to  stare  out  of  the 
window,  seeing  nothing  of  the  scenery  but  the  flicker 
of  telegraph  posts  before  his  eyes  that  were  visioning 
the  future. 

The  Flying  II  ranch  hemmed  in  by  homesteaders 
from  the  East,  he  saw;  homesteaders  who  were  being 
urged  to  bring  all  the  stock  they  could,  and  turn  it 
loose  upon  the  shrinking  range.  Homesteaders  who 
would  fence  the  country  into  squares,  and  tear  up  the 
grass  and  sow  grain  that  might  never  bear  a  harvest. 
Homesteaders  who  would  inevitably  grow  poorer  upon 
the  land  that  would  suck  their  strength  and  all  their 
little  savings  and  turn  them  loose  finally  to  forage  a 
living  where  they  might.  Homesteaders  who  would 


GREEN'S   ACQUAINTANCE     21 

ruin  the  land  that  ruined  them.  ...     It  was  not  a 

pleasing  picture,  but  it  was  more  pleasing  than  the 
picture  he  saw  of  the  Flying  U  after  these  human  grass- 
hoppers had  settled  there. 

The  range  that  fed  the  Flying  U  stock  would  feed 
no  more  and  hide  their  ribs  at  shipping  time.  That  he 
knew  too  well.  Old  J.  G.  Whitmore  and  Chip  would 
have  to  sell  out.  And  that  was  like  death ;  indeed,  it  is 
death  of  a  sort,  when  one  of  the  old  outfits  is  wiped  out 
of  existence.  It  had  happened  before  —  happened  too 
often  to  make  pleasant  memories  for  Andy  Green,  who 
could  name  outfit  after  outfit  that  had  been  forced  out 
of  business  by  the  settling  of  the  range  land ;  who  could 
name  dozens  of  cattle  brands  once  seen  upon  the  range, 
and  never  glimpsed  now  from  spring  roundup  until 
fall. 

Must  the  Flying  U  brand  disappear  also  ?  The  good 
old  Flying  U,  for  whose  existence  the  Old  Man  had 
fought  and  schemed  since  first  was  raised  the  cry  that 
the  old  range  was  passing  ?  The  Flying  U  that  had  be- 
come a  part  of  his  life?  Andy  let  his  cigarette  grow 
cold ;  he  roused  only  to  swear  at  the  porter  who  entered 
with  dust  cloth  and  a  deprecating  grin. 

After  that,  Andy  thought  of  Florence  Grace  Hallman 
—  and  his  eyes  were  not  particularly  sentimental. 
There  was  a  hard  line  about  his  mouth  also;  though 


22    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  was  but  a  pawn  in  the  game, 
after  all,  and  not  personally  guilty  of  half  the  deliberate 
crimes  Andy  laid  upon  her  dimpled  shoulders.  With 
her  it  was  pure,  cold-blooded  business,  this  luring  of  the 
land-hungry  to  a  land  whose  fertility  was  at  best  prob- 
lematical ;  who  would,  for  a  price,  turn  loose  the  victims 
of  her  greed  to  devastate  what  little  grazing  ground  was 
left. 

The  train  neared  Havre.  Andy  roused  himself,  rang 
for  the  porter  and  sent  him  after  his  suitcase  and  coat. 
Then  he  sauntered  down  the  aisle,  stopped  beside  Flor- 
ence Grace  Hallman  and  smiled  down  at  her  with  a 
gleam  behind  the  clear  candor  of  his  eyes. 

"  Hard  luck,  lady,"  he  murmured,  leaning  toward 
her.  "  I'm  just  simply  loaded  to  the  guards  with  re- 
sponsibilities, and  here's  where  I  get  off.  But  I'm  sure 
glad  I  met  yuh,  and  I'll  certainly  think  day  and  night 
about  you  and  —  all  you  told  me  about.  I'd  like  to 
get  in  on  this  land  deal.  Fact  is,  I'm  going  to  make  it 
my  business  to  get  in  on  it.  Maybe  my  way  of  working 
won't  suit  you  —  but  I'll  sure  work  hard  for  any  boss 
and  do  the  best  I  know  how." 

"  I  think  that  will  suit  me,"  Miss  Hallman  assured 
him,  and  smiled  unsuspectingly  up  into  his  eyes,  which 
she  thought  she  could  read  so  easily.  "  When  shall  I 
see  you  again  ?  Could  you  come  to  Great  Falls  in  the 


GREEN'S    ACQUAINTANCE     23 

next  ten  days?     I  shall  be  stopping  at  the  Park.     Or 
if  you  will  leave  me  your  address  — " 

"  No  use.  I'll  be  on  the  move  and  a  letter  wouldn't 
get  me.  I'll  see  yuh  later,  anyway.  I'm  bound  to^ 
And  when  I  do,  we'll  get  down  to  cases.  Good  bye." 

He  was  turning  away  when  Miss  Hallman  put  out  a 
soft,  jewelled  hand.  She  thought  it  was  diffidence  that 
made  Andy  Green  hesitate  perceptibly  before  he  took 
it.  She  thought  it  was  simply  a  masculine  shyness  and 
confusion  that  made  him  clasp  her  fingers  loosely  and 
let  them  go  on  the  instant.  She  did  not  see  him  rub  his 
palm  down  the  leg  of  his  dark  gray  trousers  as  he 
walked  down  the  aisle,  and  if  she  had  she  would  not 
have  seen  any  significance  in  the  movement. 

Andy  Green  did  that  again  before  he  stepped  off  the 
train.  For  he  felt  that  he  had  shaken  hands  with  a 
traitor  to  himself  and  his  outfit,  and  it  went  against  the 
grain.  That  the  traitor  was  a  woman,  and  a  charming 
woman  at  that,  only  intensified  his  resentment  against 
her.  A  man  can  fight  a  man  and  keep  his  self  respect ; 
but  a  man  does  mortally  dread  being  forced  into  a  posi- 
tion where  he  must  fight  a  woman. 


CHAPTEK  III 

THE    KID    LEARNS    SOME    THINGS    ABOUT    HOESES 

THE  Kid  — Chip's  Kid  and  the  Little  Doctor's 
—  was  six  years  old  and  big  for  his  age.  Also 
he  was  a  member  in  good  standing  of  the  Happy  Fam- 
ily and  he  insisted  upon  being  called  Buck  outside  the 
house;  within  it  the  Little  Doctor  insisted  even  more 
strongly  that  he  answer  to  the  many  endearing  names 
she  had  invented  for  him,  and  to  the  more  formal  one 
of  Claude,  which  really  belonged  to  Daddy  Chip. 

Being  six  years  old  and  big  for  his  age,  and  being 
called  Buck  by  his  friends,  the  Happy  Family,  the  Kid 
decided  that  he  should  have  a  man's-sized  horse  of  his 
own,  to  feed  and  water  and  ride  and  proudly  call  his 
"  string."  Having  settled  that  important  point,  he 
began  to  cast  about  him  for  a  horse  worthy  his  love  and 
ownership,  and  speedily  he  decided  that  matter  also. 

Therefore,  he  ran  bareheaded  up  to  the  blacksmith 
shop  where  Daddy  Chip  was  hammering  tunefully  upon 
the  anvil,  and  delivered  his  ultimatum  from  the  door- 
way. 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     25 

"  Silver's  going  to  be  my  string,  Daddy  Chip,  and 
I'm  going  to  feed  him  myself  and  ride  him  myself  and 
nobody  else  can  touch  him  'thout  I  say  they  can." 

"  Yes  ?  "  Chip  squinted  along  a  dully-glowing  iron 
bar,  laid  it  back  upon  the  anvil  and  gave  it  another 
whack  upon  the  side  that  still  bulged  a  little. 

"  Yes,  and  I'm  going  to  saddle  him  myself  and 
everything.  And  I  want  you  to  get  me  some  jingling 
silver  spurs  like  Mig  has  got,  with  chains  that  hang 
away  down  and  rattle  when  you  walk."  The  Kid  lifted 
one  small  foot  and  laid  a  grimy  finger  in  front  of  his 
heel  by  way  of  illustration. 

"  Yes  ?  "  Chip's  eyes  twinkled  briefly  and  immedi- 
ately became  intent  upon  his  work. 

"  Yes,  and  Doctor  Dell  has  got  to  let  me  sleep  in  the 
bunk-house  with  the  rest  of  the  fellers.  And  I  ain't 
going  to  wear  a  nightie  once  more!  I  don't  have  to, 
do  I,  Daddy  Chip  ?  Not  with  lace  on  it.  Happy  Jack 
says  I'm  a  girl  long  as  I  wear  lace  nighties,  and  I 
ain't  a  girl.  Am  I,  Daddy  Chip  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  not !  "  Chip  testified  emphatically,  and 
carried  the  iron  bar  to  the  forge  for  further  heating. 

"  I'm  going  on  roundup  too,  tomorrow  afternoon." 
The  Kid's  conception  of  time  was  extremely  sketchy  and 
had  no  connection  whatever  with  the  calendar.  "  I'm 
going  to  keep  Silver  in  the  little  corral  and  let  him  sleep 


26     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

in  the  box  stall  where  his  leg  got  well  that  time  he  broke 
it.  I  'member  when  he  had  a  rag  tied  on  it  and  teased 
for  sugar.  And  the  Countess  has  got  to  quit  a  kickin' 
every  time  I  need  sugar  for  my  string.  Ain't  she, 
Daddy  Chip  ?  She's  got  to  let  us  men  alone  or  there'll 
be  something  doing !  " 

"  I'd  tell  a  man,"  said  Chip  inattentively,  only  half 
hearing  the  war-like  declaration  of  his  offspring  —  as 
is  the  way  with  busy  fathers. 

"  I'm  going  to  take  a  ride  now  on  Silver.  I  guess 
I'll  ride  in  to  Dry  Lake  and  get  the  mail  —  and  I'm 
'pletely  outa  the  makings,  too." 

"Uh-hunh  —  a  —  what's  that?  You  keep  off 
Silver.  He'll  kick  the  daylights  out  of  you,  Kid. 
"Where's  your  hat  ?  Didn't  your  mother  tell  you  she'd 
tie  a  sunbonnet  on  you  if  you  didn't  keep  your  hat  on  ? 
You  better  hike  back  and  get  it,  young  man,  before  she 
sees  you." 

The  Kid  stared  mutinously  from  the  doorway. 
"  You  said  I  could  have  Silver.  What's  the  use  of 
having  a  string  if  a  feller  can't  ride  it  ?  And  I  can 
ride  him,  and  he  don't  kick  at  all.  I  rode  him  just 
now,  in  the  little  pasture  to  see  if  I  liked  his  gait  better 
than  the  others.  I  rode  Banjo  first  and  I  wouldn't  own 
a  thing  like  him,  on  a  bet.  Silver'll  do  me  till  I  can 
get  around  to  break  a  real  one." 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     27 

Chip's  hand  dropped  from  the  bellows  while  he  stared 
hard  at  the  Kid.  "  Did  you  go  down  in  the  pasture 
and  — "  Words  failed  him  just  then. 

"  I'd  tell  a  man  I  did !  "  the  Kid  retorted,  with  a 
perfect  imitation  of  Chip's  manner  and  tone  when 
crossed.  "  I've  been  trying  out  all  the  darned  benches 
you've  got  —  and  there  ain't  a  one  I'd  give  a  punched 
nickel  for  but  Silver.  I'd  a  rode  Shootin'  Star,  only  he 
wouldn't  stand  still  so  I  could  get  onto  him.  Whoever 
broke  him  did  a  bum  job.  The  horse  I  break  will 
stand,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why.  Silver'll  stand,  all 
right.  And  I  can  guide  him  pretty  well  by  slapping 
his  neck.  You  did  a  pretty  fair  job  when  you  broke 
Silver,"  the  Kid  informed  his  father  patronizingly. 

Chip  said  something  which  the  Kid  was  not  sup- 
posed to  hear,  and  sat  suddenly  down  upon  the  stone 
rim  of  the  forge.  It  had  never  before  occurred  to  Chip 
that  his  Kid  was  no  longer  a  baby,  but  a  most  adventur- 
ous man-child  who  had  lived  all  his  life  among  men  and 
whose  mental  development  had  more  than  kept  pace 
with  his  growing  body.  He  had  laughed  with  the 
others  at  the  Kid's  quaint  precociousness  of  speech  and 
at  his  frank  worship  of  range  men  and  range  life.  He 
had  gone  to  some  trouble  to  find  a  tractable  Shetland 
pony  the  size  of  a  burro,  and  had  taught  the  Kid  to- 
ride,  decorously  and  fully  protected  from  accident. 


28    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

He  and  the  Little  Doctor  had  been  proud  of  the  Kid's 
masculine  traits  as  they  manifested  themselves  in  the 
management  of  that  small  specimen  of  horse  flesh. 
That  the  Kid  should  have  outgrown  so  quickly  his  con- 
tent with  Stubby  seemed  much  more  amazing  than  it 
really  was.  He  eyed  the  Kid  doubtfully  for  a  minute, 
and  then  grinned. 

"  All  that  don't  let  you  out  on  the  hat  question/'  he 
said,  evading  the  real  issue  and  laying  stress  upon  the 
small  matter  of  obedience,  as  is  the  exasperating  habit 
of  parents.  "  You  don't  see  any  of  the  bunch  going 
around  bareheaded.  Only  women  and  babies  do  that." 

"  The  bunch  goes  bareheaded  when  they  get  their 
hats  bio  wed  off  in  the  creek,"  the  Kid  pointed  out  un- 
moved. "  I've  seen  you  lose  your  hat  mor'n  once,  old 
timer.  That's  nothing."  He  sent  Chip  a  sudden, 
adorable  smile  which  proclaimed  him  the  child  of  his 
mother  and  which  never  failed  to  thrill  Chip  secretly, 
—  it  was  so  like  the  Little  Doctor.  "  You  lend  me  your 
hat  for  a  while,  dad,"  he  said.  "  She  never  said  what 
hat  I  had  to  wear,  just  so  it's  a  hat.  Honest  to 
gran'ma,  my  hat's  in  the  creek  and  I  couldn't  poke  it 
out  with  a  stick  or  anything.  It  sailed  into  the  swim- 
min'  hole.  I  was  goin'  to  go  after  it,"  he  explained 
further,  "  but  —  a  snake  was  swimmin' —  and  I  hated 
to  'sturb  him." 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     29 

Chip  drew  a  sharp  breath  and  for  one  panicky  mo- 
ment considered  imperative  the  hiring  of  a  body-guard 
for  his  Kid. 

"  You  keep  out  of  the  pasture,  young  man !  "  His 
tone  was  stern  to  match  his  perturbation.  "  And  you 
leave  Silver  alone  — " 

The  Kid  did  not  wait  for  more.  He  lifted  up  hi& 
yoice  and  wept  in  bitterness  of  spirit.  Wept  so  that 
one  could  hear  him  a  mile.  Wept  so  that  J.  G.  Whit- 
more,  reading  the  Great  Falls  Tribune  on  the  porch, 
laid  down  his  paper  and  asked  the  world  at  large  what 
ailed  that  doggoned  kid  now. 

"  Dell,  you  better  go  see  what's  wrong,"  he  called 
afterwards  through  the  open  door  to  the  Little  Doctor, 
who  was  examining  a  jar  of  germ  cultures  in  her 
"  office."  "  Chances  is  he's  fallen  off  the  stable  or  some- 
thing —  though  he  sounds  more  mad  than  hurt.  If  it 
wasn't  for  my  doggoned  back  — " 

The  Little  Doctor  passed  him  hurriedly.  When  her 
man-child  wept,  it  needed  no  suggestion  from  J.  G. 
or  anyone  else  to  send  her  flying  to  the  rescue.  So 
presently  she  arrived  breathless  at  the  blacksmith  shop 
and  found  Chip  within,  looking  in  urgent  need  of  re- 
inforcements, and  the  Kid  yelling  ragefully  beside  the 
door  and  kicking  the  log  wall  with  vicious  boot-toes. 

"  Shut  up,  now,  or  I'll  spank  you !  "     Chip  was  say- 


30    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

ing  desperately  when  his  wife  appeared.  "  I  wish 
you'd  take  that  Kid  and  tie  him  up,  Dell/'  he  added 
snappishly.  "  Here  he's  been  riding  all  the  horses  in 
the  little  pasture  —  and  taking  a  chance  on  breaking  his 
neck !  And  he  ain't  satisfied  with  Stubby  —  he  thinks 
he's  entitled  to  Silver !  " 

"  Well,  why  not  ?  There,  there,  honey  —  men  don't 
cry  when  things  go  wrong — " 

"  E~o  —  because  they  can  take  it  out  in  cussing !  " 
wailed  the  Kid.  "  I  wouldn't  cry  either,  if  you'd  let 
me  swear  all  I  want  to !  " 

Chip  turned  his  back  precipitately  and  his  shoulders 
were  seen  to  shake.  The  Little  Doctor  looked  shocked. 

"  I  want  Silver  for  my  string !  "  cried  the  Kid,  art- 
fully transferring  his  appeal  to  the  higher  court.  "  I 
can  ride  him  — 'cause  I  have  rode  him,  in  the  pasture ; 
and  he  never  bucked  once  or  kicked  or  anything.  Dog- 
gone it,  he  likes  to  have  me  ride  him!  He  comes 
a-runnin'  up  to  me  when  I  go  down  there,  and  I  give 
him  sugar.  And  then  he  waits  till  I  climb  on  his  back, 
and  then  we  chase  the  other  horses  and  play  ride  circle. 
He  wants  to  be  my  string !  "  Something  in  the  feel  of 
his  mother's  arm  around  his  shoulder  whispered  hope 
to  the  Kid.  He  looked  up  at  her  with  his  most  endear- 
ing smile.  "  You  come  down  there  and  I'll  show  you," 
he  wheedled.  "  We're  pals.  And  I  guess  you  wouldn't 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     31 

like  to  have  the  boys  call  you  Tom  Thumb,  a-ridin* 
Stubby.  He's  nothing  but  a  five-cent  sample  of  a  horse. 
Big  Medicine  says  so.  I  —  I'd  rather  walk  than  ride 
Stubby.  And  I'm  going  on  roundup.  The  boys  said 
I  could  go  when  I  get  a  real  horse  under  me  —  and  I 
want  Silver.  Daddy  Chip  said  {  yes '  I  could  have  him. 
And  now  he's  Injun-giver.  Can't  I  have  him,  Doctor 
Dell  ?  " 

The  gray-blue  eyes  clashed  with  the  brown.  "  It 
wouldn't  hurt  anything  to  let  the  poor  little  tad  show 
us  what  he  can  do,"  said  the  gray-blue  eyes. 

"  Oh  —  all  right,"  yielded  the  brown,  and  their  owner 
threw  the  iron  bar  upon  the  cooling  forge  and  began  to 
turn  down  his  sleeves.  "  Why  don't  you  make  him 
wear  a  hat  ?  "  he  asked  reprovingly.  "  A  little  more 
and  he  won't  pay  any  attention  to  anything  you  tell  him. 
I'd  carry  out  that  sunbonnet  bluff,  anyway,  if  I  were 
you." 

"  Now,  Daddy  Chip !  I  'splained  to  you  how  I  lost 
my  hat,"  reproached  the  Kid,  clinging  fast  to  the 
Little  Doctor's  hand. 

"  Yes  —  and  you  'splained  that  you'd  have  gone  into 
that  deep  hole  and  drowned  —  with  nobody  there  to 
pull  you  out  —  if  you  hadn't  been  scared  of  a  water 
snake,"  Chip  pointed  out  relentlessly. 

"  I  wasn't  'zactly  scared,"  amended  the  Kid  gravely. 


32    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  He  was  havin'  such  a  good  time,  and  he  was  swimmin' 
around  so  —  comf 'table  —  and  it  wasn't  polite  to  'sturb 
him.  Can't  I  have  Silver  ?  " 

"  We'll  go  down  and  ask  Silver  what  he  thinks  about 
it,"  said  the  Little  Doctor,  anxious  to  make  peace  be- 
tween her  two  idols.  "  And  we'll  see  if  Daddy  Chip 
can  get  the  hat.  You  must  wear  a  hat,  honey;  you 
know  what  mother  told  you  —  and  you  know  mother 
keeps  her  word." 

"  I  wish  dad  did,"  the  Kid  commented,  passing  over 
the  hat  question.  "  He  said  I  could  have  Silver,  and 
keep  him  in  a  box  stall  and  feed  him  my  own  self  and 
water  him  my  own  self  and  nobody's  to  touch  him  but 
me." 

"  Well,  if  daddy  said  all  that  —  we'll  have  to  think 
it  over,  and  consult  Silver  and  see  what  he  has  to  say 
about  it." 

Silver,  when  consulted,  professed  at  least  a  willing- 
ness to  own  the  Kid  for  his  master.  He  did  indeed 
come  trotting  up  for  sugar ;  and  when  he  had  eaten  two 
grimy  lumps  from  the  Kid's  grimier  hand,  he  permitted 
the  Kid  to  entice  him  up  to  a  high  rock,  and  stood  there 
while  the  Kid  clambered  upon  the  rock  and  from  there 
to  his  sleek  back.  He  even  waited  until  the  Kid  gath- 
ered a  handful  of  silky  mane  and  kicked  him  on  the 
:ribs ;  then  he  started  off  at  a  lope,  while  the  Kid  risked 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     33 

his  balance  to  cast  a  triumphant  grin  —  that  had  a  gap 
in  the  middle  —  back  at  his  astonished  parents. 

"  Look  how  the  little  devil  guides  him !  "  exclaimed 
Chip  surrenderingly.  "  I  guess  he's  safe  enough  - 
old  Silver  seems  to  sabe  he's  got  a  kid  to  take  care  of. 
He  sure  would  strike  a  different  gait  with  me !  Lord ! 
how  the  time  slides  by;  I  can't  seem  to  get  it  through 
me  that  the  Kid's  growing  up." 

The  Little  Doctor  sighed  a  bit.  And  the  Kid,  circling 
grandly  on  the  far  side  of  the  little  pasture,  came  gallop- 
ing back  to  hear  the  verdict.  It  pleased  him  —  though 
he  was  inclined  to  mistake  a  great  privilege  for  a  right 
that  must  not  be  denied.  He  commanded  his  Daddy 
Chip  to  open  the  gate  for  him  so  he  could  ride  Silver 
to  the  stable  and  put  him  in  the  box  stall ;  which  was  a 
superfluous  kindness,  as  Chip  tried  to  point  out  and 
failed  to  make  convincing. 

The  Kid  wanted  Silver  in  the  box  stall,  where  he 
could  feed  him  and  water  him  his  own  self.  So  into 
the  box  stall  Silver  reluctantly  went,  and  spent  a  greater 
part  of  the  day  with  his  head  stuck  out  through  the  win- 
dow, staring  enviously  at  his  mates  in  the  pasture. 

For  several  days  Chip  watched  the  Kid  covertly 
whenever  his  small  feet  strayed  stableward;  watched 
and  was  full  of  secret  pride  at  the  manner  in  which  the 
Kid  rose  to  his  new  responsibility.  Never  did  a 


34    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  string  "  receive  the  care  which  Silver  got,  and  never 
did  rider  sit  more  proudly  upon  his  steed  than  did  the 
Kid  sit  upon  Silver.  There  seemed  to  be  practically 
no  risk  —  Chip  was  amazed  at  the  Kid's  ability  to 
ride.  Besides,  Silver  was  growing  old  —  fourteen 
years  being  considered  ripe  old  age  in  a  horse.  He  was 
more  given  to  taking  life  with  a  placid  optimism  that 
did  not  startle  easily.  He  carried  the  Kid's  light 
weight  easily,  and  he  had  not  lost  all  his  springiness  of 
muscle.  The  Little  Doctor  rode  him  sometimes,  and 
loved  his  smooth  gallop  and  his  even  temper;  now  she 
loved  him  more  when  she  saw  how  careful  he  was  of 
the  Kid.  She  besought  the  Kid  to  be  careful  of  Silver 
also,  and  was  most  manfully  snubbed  for  her  solici- 
tude. 

The  Kid  had  owned  Silver  for  a  week,  and  con- 
sidered that  he  was  qualified  to  give  advice  to  the  Happy 
Family,  including  his  Daddy  Chip,  concerning  the 
proper  care  of  horses.  He  stood  with  his  hands  upon 
his  hips  and  his  feet  far  apart,  and  spat  into  the  corral 
dust  and  told  Big  Medicine  that  nobody  but  a  pilgrim 
ever  handled  a  horse  the  way  Big  Medicine  was  hand- 
ling Deuce.  Whereat  Big  Medicine  gave  a  bellowing 
haw-haw-haw  and  choked  it  suddenly  when  he  saw  that 
the  Kid  desired  him  to  take  the  criticism  serious] y. 

"  All   right,    Buck,"    he   acceded   humbly,    winking 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     35 

openly  at  the  Native  Son.  "  I'll  try  m'best,  old-timer. 
Trouble  with  me  is,  I  never  had  nobody  to  learn  me 
how  to  handle  a  hoss." 

"  Well,  you've  got  me,  now,"  Buck  returned  calmly. 
"  I  don't  ride  my  string  without  brushing  the  hay  out 
of  his  tail.  There's  a  big  long  hay  stuck  in  your 
horse's  tail."  He  pointed^an  accusing  finger,  and  Big 
Medicine  silently  edged  close  to  Deuce's  rump  and 
very  carefully  removed  the  big,  long  hay.  He  took  a 
fine  chance  of  getting  himself  kicked,  but  he  did  not 
tell  the  Kid  that. 

"  That  all  right  now,  Buck  ?  "  Big  Medicine  wanted 
to  know,  when  he  had  accomplished  the  thing  without 
accident. 

"  Oh,  it'll  do,"  was  the  frugal  praise  he  got.  "  I've 
got  to  go  and  feed  my  string,  now.  And  after  a  while 
I'll  water  him.  You  want  to  feed  your  horse  always 
before  you  water  him,  'cause  eatin'  makes  him  firsty. 
You  'member  that,  now." 

"  I'll  sure  try  to,  Buck,"  Big  Medicine  promised 
soberly,  and  watched  the  Kid  go  striding  away  with  his 
hat  tilted  at  the  approved  Happy-Family  angle  and  his 
small  hands  in  his  pockets.  Big  Medicine  was  think- 
ing of  his  own  kid,  and  wondering  what  he  was  like, 
and  if  he  remembered  his  dad.  He  waved  his  hand  in 
cordial  farewell  when  the  Kid  looked  back  and  wrinkled 


36     FLYING    ITS    LAST    STAND 

his  nose  in  the  adorable,  Little-Doctor  smile  he  had, 
and  turned  his  attention  to  Deuce. 

The  Kid  made  straight  for  the  box  stall  and  told 
Silver  hello  over  the  half  door.  Silver  turned  from 
gazing  out  of  the  window,  and  came  forward  expect- 
antly, and  the  Kid  told  him  to  wait  a  minute  and  not 
be  so  impatience.  Then  he  climbed  upon  a  box,  got 
down  a  heavy  canvas  nose-bag  with  leather  bottom,  and 
from  a  secret  receptacle  behind  the  oats  box  he  brought 
a  paper  bag  of  sugar  and  poured  about  a  teacupful  into 
the  bag.  Daddy  Chip  had  impressed  upon  him  what 
would  be  the  tragic  consequences  if  he  fed  oats  to 
Silver  five  times  a  day.  Silver  would  die,  and  it  would 
be  the  Kid  that  killed  him.  Daddy  Chip  had  not  said 
anything  about  sugar  being  fatal,  however,  and  the 
Countess  could  not  always  stand  guard  over  the  sugar 
sack.  So  Silver  had  a  sweet  taste  in  his  mouth  twelve 
hours  of  the  twenty-four,  and  was  getting  a  habit 
of  licking  his  lips  reminiscently  during  the  other 
twelve. 

The  Kid  had  watched  the  boys  adjust  nose  bags  ever 
since  he  could  toddle.  He  lugged  it  into  the  stall,  set 
it  artfully  upon  the  floor  and  let  Silver  thrust  in  his 
head  to  the  eyes:  then  he  pulled  the  strap  over  Silver's 
neck  and  managed  to  buckle  it  very  securely.  He 
slapped  the  sleek  neck  afterward  as  his  Daddy  Chip 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES    37 

did,  hugged  it  the  way  Doctor  Dell  did,  and  stood  back 
to  watch  Silver  revel  in  the  bag. 

"  7S  good  lickums  ?  "  he  asked  gravely,  because  he  had 
once  heard  his  mother  ask  Silver  that  very  question,  in 
almost  that  very  tone. 

At  that  moment  an  uproar  outside  caught  his  youth- 
ful attention.  He  listened  a  minute,  heard  Pink's 
voice  and  a  shout  of  laughter,  and  ran  to  see  what  was 
going  on ;  for  where  was  excitement,  there  the  Kid  was 
also,  as  nearly  in  the  middle  of  it  as  he  could  manage. 
His  going  would  not  have  mattered  to  Silver,  had  he 
remembered  to  close  the  half-door  of  the  stall  behind 
him;  even  that  would  not  have  mattered,  had  he  not 
left  the  outer  door  of  the  stable  open  also. 

The  cause  of  the  uproar  does  not  greatly  matter, 
except  that  the  Kid  became  so  rapturously  engaged  in 
watching  the  foolery  of  the  Happy  Family  that  he  for- 
got all  about  Silver.  And  since  sugar  produces  thirst, 
and  Silver  had  not  smelled  water  since  morning,  he 
licked  the  last  sweet  grain  from  the  inside  of  the  nose 
bag  and  then  walked  out  of  the  stall  and  the  stable  and 
made  for  the  creek  —  and  a  horse  cannot  drink  with  a 
nose  bag  fastened  over  his  face.  All  he  can  do,  if  he 
succeeds  in  getting  his  nose  into  the  water,  is  to  drown 
himself  most  expeditiously  and  completely. 

Silver  reached  the  creek  unseen,  sought  the  deepest 


38    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

hole  and  tried  to  drink.  Since  his  nose  was  covered 
with  the  bag  he  could  not  do  so,  hut  he  fussed  and 
splashed  and  thrust  his  head  deeper,  until  the  water 
ran  into  the  bag  from  the  top.  He  backed  and  snorted 
and  strangled,  and  in  a  minute  he  fell.  Fortunately 
he  struggled  a  little,  and  in  doing  so  he  slid  backward 
down  the  bank  so  that  his  head  was  up  the  slope  and  the 
water  ran  out  of  the  bag,  which  was  all  that  saved  him. 

He  was  a  dead  horse,  to  all  appearances  at  least, 
when  Slim  spied  him  and  gave  a  yell  to  bring  every 
human  being  on  the  ranch  at  a  run.  The  Kid  came 
with  the  rest,  gave  one  scream  and  hid  his  face  in  the 
Little  Doctor's  skirts,  and  trembled  so  that  his  mother 
was  more  frightened  for  him  than  for  the  horse,  and  had 
Chip  carry  him  to  the  house  where  he  could  not  watch 
the  first-aid  efforts  of  the  Happy  Family. 

They  did  not  say  anything,  much.  By  their  united 
strength  they  pulled  Silver  up  the  bank  so  that  his 
limp  head  hung  downward.  Then  they  began  to  work 
over  him  exactly  as  if  he  had  been  a  drowned  man,  ex- 
cept that  they  did  not,  of  course,  roll  him  over  a  barrel. 
They  moved  his  legs  backward  and  forward,  they 
kneaded  his  paunch,  they  blew  into  his  nostrils,  they  felt 
anxiously  for  heart-beats.  They  sweated  and  gave  up 
the  fight,  saying  that  it  was  no  use.  They  saw  a  quiver 
of  the  muscles  over  the  chest  and  redoubled  their  ef- 


KID  LEARNS  ABOUT  HORSES     39 

forts,  telling  one  another  hopefully  that  he  was  alive, 
all  right.  They  saw  finally  a  quiver  of  the  nostrils  as 
well,  and  one  after  another  they  laid  palms  upon  his 
heart,  felt  there  a  steady  beating  and  proclaimed  the 
fact  profanely. 

They  pulled  him  then  into  a  more  comfortable  posi- 
tion where  the  sun  shone  warmly  and  stood  around  him 
in  a  crude  circle  and  watched  for  more  pronounced 
symptoms  of  recovery,  and  sent  word  to  the  Kid  that 
his  string  was  going  to  be  all  right  in  a  little  while. 

The  information  was  lost  upon  the  Kid,  who  wept 
hysterically  in  his  Daddy  Chip's  arms  and  would  not 
listen  to  anything  they  told  him.  He  had  seen  Silver 
stretched  out  dead,  with  his  back  in  the  edge  of  the 
creek  and  his  feet  sprawled  at  horrible  angles,  and  the 
sight  obsessed  him  and  forbade  comfort.  He  had  killed 
his  string;  nothing  was  clear  in  his  mind  save  that, 
and  he  screamed  with  his  face  hidden  from  his  little 
world. 

The  Little  Doctor,  with  anxious  eyes  and  puckered 
eyebrows,  poured  something  into  a  teaspoon  and  he]ped 
Chip  fight  to  get  it  down  the  Kid's  throat.  And  the 
Kid  shrieked  and  struggled  and  strangled,  as  is  the  way 
of  kids  the  world  over,  and  tried  to  spit  out  the  stuff 
and  couldn't,  so  he  screamed  the  louder  and  held  his 
breath  until  he  was  purple,  and  his  parents  were  scared 


40    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

stiff.  The  Old  Man  hobbled  to  the  door  in  the  midst 
of  the  uproar  and  asked  them  acrimoniously  why  they 
didn't  make  that  doggoned  Kid  stop  his  howling;  and 
when  Chip,  his  nerves  already  strained  to  the  snapping 
point,  told  him  bluntly  to  get  out  and  mind  his  own 
business,  he  hobbled  away  again  muttering  anathemas 
against  the  whole  outfit. 

The  Countess  rushed  in  from  out  of  doors  and  wanted 
to  know  what  under  the  shinin'  sun  was  the  matter  with 
that  kid,  and  advised  his  frantic  parents  to  throw  water 
in  his  face.  Chip  told  her  exactly  what  he  had  told 
the  Old  Man,  in  exactly  the  same  tone ;  so  the  Countess 
retreated,  declaring  that  he  wouldn't  be  let  to  act  that 
way  if  he  was  her  kid,  and  that  he  was  plumb  everlast- 
ingly spoiled. 

The  Happy  Family  heard  the  disturbance  and 
thought  the  Kid  was  being  spanked  for  the  accident, 
which  put  every  man  of  them  in  a  fighting  humor  to- 
ward Chip,  the  Little  Doctor,  the  Old  Man  and  the 
whole  world.  Pink  even  meditated  going  up  to  the 
White  House  to  lick  Chip  —  or  at  least  tell  him  what 
he  thought  of  him  —  and  he  had  plenty  of  sympa- 
thizers; though  they  advised  him  half-heartedly  not  to 
buy  in  to  any  family  mixup. 

It  was  into  this  storm-centre  that  Andy  Green  rode 
headlong  with  his  own  burden  of  threatened  disaster. 


CHAPTER  IV 

TAKES    A    HAJSTD    IN    THE    GAME 

ANDY  GREEN  was  a  day  late  in  arriving  at  the 
Flying  U.  Eirst  lie  lost  time  by  leaving  the 
train  thirty  miles  short  of  the  destination  marked  on 
his  ticket,  and  when  he  did  resume  his  journey,  on  the 
next  train,  he  traveled  eighty-four  miles  beyond  Dry 
Lake,  which  landed  him  in  Great  Ealls  in  the  early 
morning.  There,  with  the  caution  of  a  criminal  care- 
fully avoiding  a  meeting  with  Miss  Hallman,  he  spent 
an  hour  in  poring  over  a  plat  of  a  certain  section  of 
Chouteau  County,  and  in  copying  certain  descriptions 
of  unoccupied  land. 

He  had  not  slept  very  well  the  night  before  and  he 
looked  it.  He  had  cogitated  upon  the  subject  of  land 
speculations  and  the  welfare  of  his  outfit  until  his 
head  was  one  great,  dull  ache;  but  he  stuck  to  his 
determination  to  do  something  to  block  the  game  of 
the  Homeseekers'  Syndicate.  Just  what  that  some- 
thing would  be  he  had  not  yet  decided.  But  on  gen- 


42    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

eral  principles  it  seemed  wise  to  learn  all  he  could 
concerning  the  particular  tract  of  land  about  which 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  had  talked. 

The  day  was  past  when  range  rights  might  be  de- 
fended honorably  with  rifles  and  six-shooters  and  iron- 
nerved  men  to  use  them  —  and  I  fear  that  Andy  Green 
sighed  because  it  was  so.  Give  him  the  "  bunch  "  and 
free  swing,  and  he  thought  the  homeseekers  would  lose 
their  enthusiasm  before  even  the  first  hot  wind  blew 
up  from  the  southwest  to  wither  their  crops.  But  such 
measures  were  not  to  be  thought  of;  if  they  fought  at 
all  they  must  fight  with  the  law  behind  them  —  and 
even  Andy's  optimism  did  not  see  much  hope  from  the 
law ;  none,  in  fact,  since  both  the  law  and  the  moneyed 
powers  were  eager  for  the  coming  of  homebuilders  into 
that  wide  land.  All  up  along  the  Marias  they  had 
built  their  board  shacks,  and  back  over  the  benches 
as  far  as  one  could  see.  There  was  nothing  to  stop 
them,  everything  to  make  their  coming  easy. 

Andy  scowled  at  the  plat  he  was  studying,  and  ad- 
mitted to  himself  that  it  looked  as  though  the  Home- 
seekers'  Syndicate  were  going  to  have  things  their  own 
way ;  unless  —  There  he  stuck.  There  must  be  some 
way  out;  never  in  his  life  had  he  faced  a  situation 
which  had  been  absolutely  hopeless;  always  there  had 
been  some  chance  to  win,  if  a  man  only  saw  it  in  time 


ANDY    TAKES    A   HAND         43 

and  took  it.  In  this  case  it  was  the  clerk  in  the  office 
who  pointed  the  way  with  an  idle  remark. 

"  Going  to  take  up  a  claim,  are  you  ? " 

Andy  looked  up  at  him  with  the  blank  stare  of  pre- 
occupation, and  changed  expression  as  the  question 
filtered  into  his  brain  and  fitted  somehow  into  the 
puzzle.  He  grinned,  said  maybe  he  would,  folded  the 
sheet  of  paper  filled  with  what  looked  like  a  meaning- 
less jumble  of  letters  and  figures,  bought  a  plat  of  that 
township  and  begged  some  government  pamphlets,  and 
went  out  humming  a  little  tune  just  above  a  whisper. 
At  the  door  he  tilted  his  hat  down  at  an  angle  over 
his  right  eye  and  took  long,  eager  steps  toward  an  ob- 
scure hotel  and  his  meagre  baggage. 

There  was  no  train  going  east  until  midnight,  and  he 
caught  that  train.  This  time  he  actually  got  off  at 
Dry  Lake,  ate  a  hurried  breakfast,  got  his  horse  out  of 
the  livery  stable  and  dug  up  the  dust  of  the  lane  with 
rapid  hoof -beats  so  that  he  rode  all  the  way  to  the  first 
hill  followed  by  a  rolling,  gray  cloud  that  never  quite 
caught  him. 

When  he  rode  down  the  Hog's  Back  he  saw  the 
Happy  Family  bunched  around  some  object  on  the 
creek-bank,  and  he  heard  the  hysterical  screaming  of 
the  Kid  up  in  the  house,  and  saw  the  Old  Man  limp- 
ing excitedly  tip  and  down  the  porch.  A  man  less 


44    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

astute  than  Andy  Green  would  have  known  that  some- 
thing had  happened.  He  hurried  down  the  last  slope, 
galloped  along  the  creek-bottom,  crossed  the  ford  in  a 
couple  of  leaps  and  pulled  up  beside  the  group  that 
surrounded  Silver. 

"  What's  been  taking  place  here  ?  "  he  demanded 
curiously,  skipping  the  usual  greetings. 

"  Hell,"  said  the  Native  Son  succinctly,  glancing  up 
at  him. 

"  Old  Silver  looked  over  the  fence  into  Kingdom 
Come/'  Weary  enlarged  the  statement  a  little.  "  Tried 
to  take  a  drink  with  a  nose  bag  on.  I  guess  he'll  come 
through  all  right." 

"  What  ails  the  Kid  ? "  Andy  demanded,  glancing 
toward  the  house  whence  issued  a  fresh  outburst  of 
shrieks. 

The  Happy  Family  looked  at  one  another  and  then 
at  the  White  House. 

"  Aw,  some  folks  hain't  got  a  lick  of  sense  when  it 
comes  to  kids,"  Big  Medicine  accused  gruffly. 

"The  Kid,"  Weary  explained,  "put  the  nose  bag 
on  Silver  and  then  left  the  stable  door  open." 

"  They  ain't  —  spanking  him  for  it,  are  they  ?  " 
Andy  demanded  belligerently.  "  By  gracious,  how'd 
a  kid  know  any  better  ?  Little  bit  of  a  tad  like  that  — " 

"  Aw,  they  don't  never  spank  the  Kid !  "     Slim  de- 


ANDY    TAKES    A    HAND         45 

fended  the  parents  loyally.  "  By  golly,  they's  been 
times  when  I  would-a  spanked  him,  if  it'd  been  me. 
Countess  says  it's  plumb  ridiculous  the  way  that  Kid 
runs  over  'em  —  rough  shod.  If  he's  gittin'  spanked 
now,  it's  the  first  time." 

"  Well,"  said  Andy,  looking  from  one  to  another  and 
reverting  to  his  own  worry  as  he  swung  down  from  his 
sweating  horse,  "  there's  something  worse  than  a 
spanked  kid  going  to  happen  to  this  outfit  if  you  fel- 
lows don't  get  busy  and  do  something.  There's  a 
swarm  of  dry-farmers  coming  in  on  us,  with  their 
stock  to  eat  up  the  grass  and  their  darned  fences  shut- 
ting off  the  water — " 

"  Oh,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  cut  it  out !  "  snapped 
Pink.  "  We  ain't  in  the  mood  for  any  of  your  joshes. 
We've  had  about  enough  excitement  for  once." 

"  Ah,  don't  be  a  damn'  fool,"  Andy  snapped  back.. 
"  There's  no  josh  about  it.  I've  got  the  whole  scheme, 
just  as  they  framed  it  up  in  Minneapolis.  I  got  to- 
talking  with  a  she-agent  on  the  train,  and  she  gave  the 
whole  snap  away;  wanted  me  to  go  in  with  her  and 
help  land  the  suckers.  I  laid  low,  and  made  a  sneak 
to  the  land  office  and  got  a  plat  of  the  land,  and  all 
the  dope — " 

"  Get  any  mail  ?  "  Pink  interrupted  him,  in  the  tone 
that  took  no  notice  whatever  of  Andy's  ill  news* 


46    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Time  I  was  hearing  from  them  spurs  I  sent  for." 

Andy  silently  went  through  his  pockets  and  pro- 
duced what  mail  he  had  gleaned  from  the  post-office, 
and  led  his  horse  into  the  shade  of  the  stable  and  pulled 
off  the  saddle.  Every  movement  betrayed  the  fact 
that  he  was  in  the  grip  of  unpleasant  emotions,  but  to 
the  Happy  Family  he  said  not  another  word. 

The  Happy  Family  did  not  notice  his  silence  at  the 
time.  But  afterwards,  when  the  Kid  had  stopped  cry- 
ing and  Silver  had  gotten  to  his  feet  and  wobbled  back 
to  the  stable,  led  by  Chip,  who  explained  briefly  and 
satisfactorily  the  cause  of  the  uproar  at  the  house,  and 
the  boys  had  started  up  to  their  belated  dinner,  they 
began  to  realize  that  for  a  returned  traveler  Andy  Green 
was  not  having  much  to  say. 

They  asked  him  about  his  trip,  and  received  brief 
answers.  Had  he  been  anyone  else  they  would  have 
wanted  to  know  immediately  what  was  eatin'  on  him; 
but  since  it  was  Andy  Green  who  sat  frowning  at  his 
toes  and  smoking  his  cigarette  as  though  it  had  no 
comfort  or  flavor,  the  boldest  of  them  were  cautious. 
For  Andy  Green,  being  a  young  man  of  vivid  im- 
agination and  no  conscience  whatever,  had  fooled  them 
too  often  with  his  lies.  They  waited,  and  they  watched 
him  covertly  and  a  bit  puzzled. 

Silence   and   gloom   were  not  boon   companions   of 


ANDY    TAKES    A   HAND        47 

Andy  Green,  at  any  time.  So  Weary,  having  the  most 
charitable  nature  of  any  among  them,  sighed  and 
yielded  the  point  of  silent  contention. 

"  What  was  all  that  you  started  to  tell  us  about  the 
dry-farmers,  Andy  ?  "  he  asked  indulgently. 

"  All  straight  goods.  But  there's  no  use  talking  to 
you  bone-heads.  You'll  set  around  chewing  the  rag 
and  looking  wise  till  it's  too  late  to  do  anything  but 
holler  your  heads  off."  He  got  up  from  where  he  had 
been  lounging  on  a  bench  just  outside  the  mess  house 
and  walked  away,  with  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  his 
pockets  and  his  shoulders  drooped  forward. 

The  Happy  Family  looked  after  him  doubtfully. 

"  Aw,  it's  just  some  darned  josh  uh  his,"  Happy 
Jack  declared.  "  I  know  Mm." 

"  Look  at  the  way  he  slouches  along  —  like  he  was 
loaded  to  the  ears  with  trouble !  "  Pink  pointed  out 
amusedly.  "  He'd  fool  anybody  that  didn't  know  himr 
all  right." 

"  And  he  fools  the  fellows  that  do  know  him,  oftener 
than  anybody  else,"  added  the  Native  Son  negligently. 
"  You're  fooled  right  now  if  you  think  that's  all  acting. 
That  hombre  has  got  something  on  his  mind." 

"Well,  by  golly,  it  ain't  dry-farmers,"  Slim  as- 
serted boldly. 

"  If  you  fellows  wouldn't  say  it  was  a  frame-up  be- 


48    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

tween  us  two,  I'd  go  after  him  and  find  out.     But  .  .  ." 

"  But  as  it  stands,  we'd  believe  Andy  Green  a  whole 
lot  quicker'n  what  we  would  you,"  supplemented  Big 
Medicine  loudly.  "  You're  dead  right  there." 

"  What  was  it  he  said  about  it  ? "  Weary  wanted 
to  know.  "  I  wasn't  paying  much  attention,  with  the 
Kid  yelling  his  head  off  and  old  Silver  gaping  like  a 
sick  turkey,  and  all.  What  was  it  about  them  dry- 
farmers  ?  " 

"  He  said,"  piped  Pink,  "  that  he'd  got  next  to  a 
scheme  to  bring  a  big  bunch  of  dry-farmers  in  on  this 
bench  up  here,  with  stock  that  they'd  turn  loose  on  the 
range.  That's  what  he  said.  He  claims  the  agent 
wanted  him  to  go  in  on  it." 

"  Mamma !  "  Weary  held  a  match  poised  midway 
between  his  thigh  and  his  cigarette  while  he  stared  at 
Pink.  "  That  would  be  some  mixup —  if  it  was  to 
happen."  His  sunny  blue  eyes  —  that  were  getting 
little  crow's-feet  at  their  corners  —  turned  to  look  after 
the  departing  Andy.  "Where's  the  josh?"  he  ques- 
tioned the  group. 

"  The  josh  is,  that  he'd  like  to  see  us  all  het  up  over 
it,  and  makin'  war-talks  and  laying  for  the  pilgrims 
some  dark  night  with  our  six-guns,  most  likely,"  re- 
torted Pink,  who  happened  to  be  in  a  bad  humor  be- 
cause in  ten  minutes  he  was  due  at  a  line  of  post-holes 


ANDY    TAKES    A   HAND        49 

that  divided  the  big  pasture  into  two  unequal  parts. 
"  He  can't  agitate  me  over  anybody's  troubles  but  my 
own.  Happy,  I'll  help  Bud  stretch  wire  this  after- 
noon if  you'll  tamp  the  rest  uh  them  posts." 

"  Aw,  you  stick  to  your  own  job!  How  was  it  when 
I  wanted  you  to  help  pull  the  old  wire  off  that  hill 
fence  and  git  it  ready  to  string  down  here?  You 
wasn't  crazy  about  workin'  with  bob  wire  then,  I 
noticed.  You  said — " 

"  What  I  said  wasn't  a  commencement  to  what  I'll 
say  again,"  Pink  began  truculently,  and  so  the  subject 
turned  effectually  from  Andy  Green. 

Weary  smoked  meditatively  while  they  wrangled, 
and  when  the  group  broke  up  for  the  afternoon's  work 
he  went  unobtrusively  in  search  of  Andy.  He  was  not 
quite  easy  in  his  mind  concerning  the  alleged  joke. 
He  had  looked  full  at  the  possibilities  of  the  situation 
—  granting  Andy  had  told  the  truth,  as  he  sometimes 
did  —  and  the  possibilities  had  not  pleased  him.  He 
found  Andy  morosely  replacing  some  broken  strands 
in  his  cinch,  and  he  went  straight  at  the  mooted  ques- 
tion. 

Andy  looked  up  from  his  work  and  scowled.  "  This 
ain't  any  joke  with  me,"  he  stated  grimly.  "  It's 
something  that's  going  to  put  the  Flying  U  out  of  busi- 
ness if  it  ain't  stopped  before  it  gets  started.  I've 


50    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

been  worrying  my  head  off,  ever  since  day  before 
yesterday;  I  ain't  in  the  humor  to  take  anything  off 
those  imitation  joshers  up  there  —  I'll  tell  yuh  that 
much." 

"  Well,  but  how  do  you  figure  it  can  be  stopped  ? " 
Weary  sat  soberly  down  on  the  oats  box  and  absently 
watched  Andy's  expert  fingers  while  they  knotted  the 
heavy,  cotton  cord  through  the  cinch-rings.  "  We  can't 
stand  'em  off  with  guns." 

Andy  dropped  the  cinch  and  stood  up,  pushing  back 
his  hat  and  then  pulling  it  forward  into  place  with 
the  gesture  he  used  when  he  was  very  much  in  earnest. 
"  No,  we  can't.  But  if  the  bunch  is  game  for  it  there's 
a  way  to  block  their  play  —  and  the  law  does  all  our 
fighting  for  us.  We  don't  have  to  yeep.  It's  like 
this,  Weary :  Counting  Chip  and  the  Little  Doctor  and 
the  Countess  there's  'leven  of  us  that  can  use  our  rights 
up  here  on  the  bench.  I've  got  it  all  figured  out.  If 
we  can  get  Irish  and  Jack  Bates  to  come  back  and 
help  us  out,  there's  thirteen  of  us.  And  we  can  take 
homesteads  along  the  creeks  and  deserts  back  on  the 
bench,  and  —  say,  do  you  know  how  much  land  we  can 
corral,  the  bunch  of  us  ?  Pour  thousand  acres !  And 
if  we  take  our  claims  right,  that's  going  to  mean  that 
we  get  a  dead  immortal  cinch  on  all  the  bench  land 
that's  worth  locating,  around  here,  and  we'll  have  the 


ANDY    TAKES    A   HAND        51 

creeks,  and  also  we'll  have  the  breaks  corralled  for  our 
own  stock. 

"  I've  gone  over  the  plat  —  I  brought  a  copy  to 
show  you  fellows  what  we  can  do.  And  by  taking  up 
our  claims  right,  we  keep  a  deadline  from  the  Bear 
Paws  to  the  Plying  U.  ~Now  the  Old  Man  owns 
Benson's  ranch,  all  south  uh  here  is  fairly  safe  —  un- 
less they  come  in  between  his  south  line  and  the  breaks ; 
and  there  ain't  room  for  more  than  two  or  three  claims 
there.  Maybe  we  can  get  some  of  the  boys  to  grab  what 
there  is,  and  string  ourselves  out  north  uh  here  too. 

"  That's  the  only  way  on  earth  we  can  save  what 
little  feed  there  is  left.  This  way,  we  get  the  land 
ourselves  and  hold  it,  so  there  don't  any  outside  stock 
come  in  on  us.  If  Florence  Grace  Hallman  and  her 
bunch  lands  any  settlers  here,  they'll  be  between  us  and 
Dry  Lake;  and  they're  dead  welcome  to  squat  on  them 
dry  pinnacles  —  so  long  as  we  keep  their  stock  from 
crossing  our  claims  to  get  into  the  breaks.  Savvy  the 
burro «  " 

"  Yes-s  —  but  hoVd  yuh  know  they're  going  to  do 
all  this  ?  Mamma !  I  don't  want  to  turn  dry-farmer  if 
I  don't  have  to !  " 

Andy's  face  clouded.  "  That's  just  what'll  block 
the  game,  I'm  afraid.  I  don't  want  to,  either.  None 
of  the  boys' 11  want  to.  It'll  mean  going  up  there  and 


52    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

baching,  six  or  seven  months  of  the  year,  by  our  high 
lonesomes.  We'll  have  to  fulfil  the  requirements,  if 
we  start  in  —  because  them  pilgrims'll  be  standing 
around  like  dogs  at  a  picnic,  waiting  for  something  to 
drop  so  they  can  grab  it  and  run.  It  ain't  going  to 
be  any  snap. 

"  And  there's  another  thing  bothers  me,  Weary. 
It's  going  to  be  one  peach  of  a  job  to  make  the  boys  be- 
lieve it  hard  enough  to  make  their  entries  in  time." 
Andy  grinned  wrily.  "  By  gracious,  this  is  where  I 
could  see  a  gilt-edged  reputation  for  telling  the  truth !  " 

"  You  could,  all  right,"  Weary  agreed  sympathetic- 
ally. "  It's  going  to  strain  our  swallowers  to  get  all 
that  down,  and  that's  a  fact.  You  ought  to  have  some 
proof,  if  you  want  the  boys  to  grab  it,  Andy."  His 
face  sobered.  "  Who  is  this  Florence  person  ?  If  you 
could  get  some  kinda  proof  —  a  letter,  say  .  .  ." 

"  Easiest  thing  in  the  world !  "  Andy  brightened 
at  the  suggestion.  "  She's  stopping  at  the  Park,  in 
Great  Falls,  and  she  wanted  me  to  come  up  or  write. 
Anybody  going  to  town  right  away?  I'll  send  that 
foxy  dame  a  letter  that'll  produce  proof  enough. 
You've  helped  ma  a  lot,  Weary." 

Weary  scrutinized  him  sharply  and  puckered  his 
lips  into  a  doubtful  expression.  "  I  wish  I  knew  for 
a  fact  whether  all  this  is  straight  goods,  Andy,"  he  said 


ANDY    TAKES    A    HAND         53 

pensively.  "  Chances  are  you're  just  stringing  me. 
But  if  you  are,  old  boy,  I'm  going  to  take  it  outa  your 
hide  —  and  don't  you  forget  that."  He  grinned  at 
his  own  mental  predicament.  "  Honest,  Andy,  is  this 
some  josh,  or  do  you  mean  it  ?  " 

"  By  gracious,  I  wish  it  was  a  josh !  But  it  ain't, 
darn  it.  In  about  two  weeks  or  so  you'll  all  see  the 
point  of  this  joke  —  but  whether  the  joke's  on  us  or 
on  the  Homeseekers'  Syndicate  depends  on  you  fellows. 
Lord !  I  wish  I'd  never  told  a  lie !  " 

Weary  sat  knocking  his  heels  rhythmically  against 
the  side  of  the  box  while  he  thought  the  matter  over 
from  start  to  hypothetical  finish  and  back  again. 
Meanwhile  Andy  Green  went  on  with  his  work  and 
scowled  over  his  well-earned  reputation  that  hampered 
him  now  just  when  he  needed  the  confidence  of  his 
fellows  in  order  to  save  their  beloved  Flying  U  from 
slow  annihilation.  Perhaps  his  mental  suffering  could 
not  rightly  be  called  remorse,  but  a  poignant  regret  it 
most  certainly  was,  and  a  sense  of  complete  bafflement 
which  came  out  in  his  next  sentence. 

"  Even  if  she  wrote  me  a  letter,  the  boys'd  call  it 
a  frame-up  just  the  same.  They'd  say  I  had  it  fixed 
before  I  left  town.  Doctor  Cecil's  up  at  the  Falls. 
They'd  lay  it  to  her." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  that,  myself.     What's  the  matter 


54    FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

with  getting  Chip  to  go  up  with  you?  Couldn't  you 
ring  him  in  on  the  agent  somehow,  so  he  can  get  the 
straight  of  it  ?  " 

Andy  stood  up  and  looked  at  Weary  a  minute. 
"  How'd  I  make  Chip  believe  me  enough  to  go  ?  "  he 
countered.  "  Darn  it,  everything  looked  all  smooth  sail- 
ing till  I  got  back  here  to  the  ranch  and  the  boys  come 
at  me  with  that  same  old  smart-aleck  brand  uh  talk. 
I  kinda  forgot  how  I've  lied  to  'em  and  fooled  'em 
right  along  till  they  duck  every  time  I  open  my  face." 
His  eyes  were  too  full  of  trouble  to  encourage  levity 
in  his  listener.  "  You  remember  that  time  the  boys 
rode  off  and  left  me  laying  out  here  on  the  prairie  with 
my  leg  broke  ? "  he  went  on  dismally.  "  I'd  rather 
have  that  happen  to  me  a  dozen  times  than  see  'em  set 
back  and  give  me  the  laugh  now,  just  when  —  Oh, 
hell !  "  He  dropped  the  finished  cinch  and  walked 
moodily  to  the  door.  "  Weary,  if  them  dry-farmers 
come  flockin'  in  on  us  while  this  bunch  stands  around 
callin'  me  a  liar,  I  —  "  He  did  not  attempt  to  finish 
the  sentence;  but  Weary,  staring  curiously  at  Andy's 
profile,  saw  a  quivering  of  the  muscles  around  his  lips 
and  felt  a  responsive  thrill  of  sympathy  and  belief  that 
rose  above  his  long  training  in  caution. 

Spite  of  past  experience  he  believed,  at  that  moment, 
every  word  which  Andy  Green  had  uttered  upon  the 


ANDY   TAKES    A   HAND        55 

subject  of  the  proposed  immigration.  He  was  about 
to  tell  Andy  so,  when  Chip  walked  unexpectedly  out 
of  Silver's  stall  and  glanced  from  Weary  to  Andy 
standing  still  in  the  doorway.  Weary  looked  at  him 
inquiringly ;  for  Chip  must  have  heard  every  word  they 
said,  and  if  Chip  believed  it  — 

"  Have  you  got  that  plat  with  you,  Andy  ?  "  Chip 
asked  tersely  and  with  never  a  doubt  in  his  tone. 

Andy  swung  toward  him  like  a  prisoner  who  has  just 
heard  a  jury  return  a  verdict  of  not  guilty  to  the  judge. 
"  I've  got  it,  yes,"  he  answered  simply,  with  only  his 
voice  betraying  the  emotions  he  felt  —  and  his  eyes. 
"Want  it?" 

"  I'll  take  a  look  at  it,  if  it's  handy,"  said  Chip. 

Andy  felt  in  his  inside  coat  pocket,  drew  out  a  thin, 
folded  map  of  that  particular  part  of  the  county  with 
all  the  government  land  marked  upon  it,  and  handed 
it  to  Chip  without  a  word.  He  singled  out  a  couple 
of  pamphlets  from  a  bunch  of  old  letters  such  as  men 
are  in  the  habit  of  carrying  upon  their  persons,  and 
gave  them  to  Chip  also. 

"  That's  a  copy  of  the  homestead  and  desert  laws," 
he  said.  "  I  guess  you  heard  me  telling  Weary  what 
kinda  deal  we're  up  against,  here.  Better  not  say  any- 
thing to  the  Old  Man  till  you  have  to;  no  use  worry- 
ing him  —  he  can't  do  nothing."  It  was  amazing,  the 


56    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

change  that  had  come  over  Andy's  face  and  manner 
since  Chip  first  spoke.  Now  he  grinned  a  little. 

"  If  you  want  to  go  in  on  this  deal/7  he  said  quiz- 
zically, "  maybe  it'll  be  just  as  well  if  you  talk  to  the 
bunch  yourself  about  it,  Chip.  You  ain't  any  tin 
angel,  but  I'm  willing  to  admit  the  boys'll  believe  you 
a  whole  lot  quicker  than  they  would  me." 

"  Yes  —  and  they'll  probably  hand  me  a  bunch  of 
pity  for  getting  stung  by  you,"  Chip  retorted.  "  I'll 
take  a  chance,  anyway  —  but  the  Lord  help  you,  Andy, 
if  you  can't  produce  proof  when  the  time  comes." 


CHAPTER  Vi 

THE    HAPPY    FAMILY    TTJBN"    TESTERS 


SAT,   Andy, 
Medicine  ii 


where's  them  dry-farmers  ? "  Big 
inquired  at  the  top  of  his  voice  when 
the  Happy  Family  had  reached  the  biscuit-and-syrup 
stage  of  supper  that  evening. 

"  Oh,  they're  trying  to  make  up  their  minds  whether 
to  bring  the  old  fannin'-mill  along  or  sell  it  and  buy 
new  when  they  get  here,"  Andy  informed  him  hnper- 
turbably.  "  The  women-folks  are  busy  going  through 
their  rag  bags,  cutting  the  buttons  off  all  the  pants  that 
ain't  worth  patching  no  more,  and  getting  father's 
socks  all  darned  up." 

The  Happy  Family  snickered  appreciatively;  this 
was  more  like  the  Andy  Green  with  whom  they  were 
accustomed  to  deal. 

"  What's  daughter  doin',  about  now  ? "  asked  Cal 
Emmett,  fixing  his  round,  baby-blue  stare  upon  Andy. 

"  Daughter  ?  Why,  daughter's  leaning  over  the  gate 
telling  him  she  wouldn't  never  look  at  one  of  them  wild 
cowboys  —  the  idea!  She's  heard  all  about  'em,  and 


58    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

they're  too  rough  and  rude  for  her.  And  she's  promis- 
ing to  write  every  day,  and  giving  him  a  lock  of  hair 
to  keep  in  the  back  of  his  dollar  watch.  Pass  the  cane 
juice,  somebody." 

"  Yeah  —  all  right  for  daughter.  If  she's  a  good 
looker  we'll  see  if  she  don't  change  her  verdict  about 
cowboys." 

"  Who  will  ?  You  don't  call  yourself  one,  do  yuh  ?  " 
Pink  flung  at  him  quickly. 

"Well,  that  depends;  I  know  I  ain't  any  lady 
broncho  —  hey,  cut  it  out !  "  This  last  because  of  half 
a  biscuit  aimed  accurately  at  the  middle  of  his  face. 
If  you  want  to  know  why,  search  out  the  history  of  a 
certain  War  Bonnet  Roundup,  wherein  Pink  rashly 
impersonated  a  lady  broncho-fighter. 

"  Wher'e  they  going  to  live  v7hen  they  git  here  ?  " 
asked  Happy  Jack,  reverting  to  the  subject  of  dry- 
farmers. 

"  Close  enough  so  you  can  holler  from  here  to  their 
back  door,  my  boy  —  if  they  have  their  say  about  it," 
Andy  assured  him  cheerfully.  Andy  felt  that  he  could 
afford  to  be  facetious  now  that  he  had  Chip  and  Weary 
on  his  side. 

"  Aw,  gwan !  I  betche  there  ain't  a  word  of  truth 
in  all  that  scarey  talk,"  Happy  Jack  fleered  heavily. 

"Name  your  bet.     I'll  take  it."     Andy  filled  his 


TURNING   NESTERS  59 

mouth  with  hot  biscuit  and  stirred  up  the  sugar  in  his 
coffee  like  a  man  who  is  occupied  chiefly  with  the  joys 
of  the  table. 

"  Aw,  you  ain't  going  to  git  me  that  way  agin," 
Happy  Jack  declared.  "  They's  some  ketch  to  it." 

"  There  sure  is,  Happy.  The  biggest  ketch  you  ever 
seen  in  your  life.  It's  ketch  the  Flying  U  outfit  and 
squeeze  the  life  out  of  it;  that's  the  ketch."  Andy's 
tone  had  in  it  no  banter,  but  considerable  earnestness. 
For,  though  Chip  would  no  doubt  convince  the  boys 
that  the  danger  was  very  real,  there  was  a  small  matter 
of  personal  pride  to  urge  Andy  into  trying  to  convince 
them  himself,  without  aid  from  Chip  or  any  one 
else. 

"  Well,  by  golly,  I'd  like  to  see  anybody  try  that 
there  scheme,"  blurted  Slim.  "  That's  all  —  I'd  jest 
like  to  see  'em  try  it  once !  " 

"  Oh,  you'll  see  it,  all  right  —  and  you  won't  have 
to  wait  long,  either.  Just  set  around  on  your  haunches 
a  couple  of  weeks  or  so.  That's  all  you'll  have  to  do, 
Slim ;  you'll  see  it  tried,  fast  enough." 

Pink  eyed  him  with  a  wide,  purple  glance.  "  You'd 
like  to  make  us  fall  for  that,  wouldn't  you  ? "  he  chal- 
lenged warily. 

Andy  gave  him  a  level  look.  "  No,  I  wouldn't.  I'd 
like  to  put  one  over  on  you  smart  gazabos  that  think 


60    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

you  know  it  all;  but  I  don't  want  to  bad  enough  to  see 
the  Flying  U  go  outa  business  just  so  I  could  holler 
didn't-I-tell-you.  There's  a  limit  to  what  I'll  pay  for  a 
josh." 

"  Well/'  put  in  the  Native  Son  with  his  easy  drawl, 
"  I'm  coming  to  the  centre  with  my  ante,  just  for  the 
sake  of  seeing  the  cards  turned.  Deal  'em  out, 
amigo;  state  your  case  once  more,  so  we  can  take  a  good, 
square  look  at  these  dry-farmers." 

"  Yeah  —  go  ahead  and  tell  us  what's  bustin'  the 
buttons  off  your  vest,"  Cal  Emmett  invited. 

"What's  the  use?"  Andy  argued.  "  You'd  all 
just  raise  up  on  your  hind  legs  and  holler  your  heads 
off.  You  wouldn't  do  anything  about  it  —  not  if  you 
knew  it  was  the  truth !  "  This,  of  course,  was  pure 
guile  upon  his  part. 

"  Oh,  wouldn't  we  ?  I  guess,  by  golly,  we'd  do  as 
much  for  the  outfit  as  what  you  would  —  and  a  hull 
lot  more  if  it  come  to  a  show-down."  Slim  swallowed 
the  bait. 

"  Maybe  you  would,  if  you  could  take  it  out  in  talk- 
ing," snorted  Andy.  "  My  chips  are  in.  I've  got 
three-hundred-and-twenty  acres  picked  out,  up  here, 
and  I'm  going  to  file  on  'em  before  these  damned  nesters 
get  off  the  train.  Uh  course,  that  won't  be  more'n 
a  flea  bite  —  but  I  can  make  it  interesting  for  my  next- 


TURNING    NESTERS  61 

door  neighbors,  anyway;  and  every  flea  bite  helps  to 
keep  a  dog  moving,  yuh  know." 

"  I'll  go  along  and  use  my  rights/'  Weary  offered 
suddenly  and  seriously.  "  That'll  make  one  section 
they  won't  get,  anyway." 

Pink  gave  him  a  startled  look  across  the  table. 
"  You  ain't  going  to  grab  it,  are  yuh  ?  "  he  demanded 
disappointedly. 

"  I  sure  am  —  if  it's  three-hundred-and-twenty  acres 
of  land  you  mean.  If  I  don't,  somebody  else  will." 
He  sighed  humorously.  "  Next  summer  you'll  see  me 
hoeing  spuds,  most  likely  —  if  the  law  says  I  got  to." 

"  Haw-haw-haw-w !  "  laughed  Big  Medicine  suddenly. 
"  It'd  sure  be  worth  the  price,  jest  to  ride  up  and  watch 
you  two  marks  down  on  all  fours  weedin'  onions." 
He  laughed  again  with  his  big,  bull-like  bellow. 

"  We  don't  have  to  do  anything  like  that  if  we  don't 
want  to,"  put  in  Andy  Green  calmly.  "  I've  been 
reading  up  on  the  law.  There's  one  little  joker  in  it 
I've  got  by  heart.  It  says  that  homestead  land  can  be 
used,  for  grazing  purposes  if  it's  more  valuable  for 
pasture  than  for  crops,  and  that  actual  grazing  will  be 
accepted  instead  of  cultivation  —  if  it  is  grazing  land. 
So—" 

"  I  betche  you  can't  prove  that,"  Happy  Jack  in- 
terrupted him.  "  I  never  heard  of  that  before  — " 


62    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  The  world's  -plumb  full  of  things  you  never  heard 
of,  Happy/7  Andy  told  him  witheringly.  "  I  gave  Chip 
my  copy  of  the  homestead  laws,  and  a  plat  of  the  land 
up  here ;  soon  as  he  hands  'em  back  I  can  show  you  in 
cold  print  where  it  says  that  very  identical  thing. 

"  That's  what  makes  it  look  good  to  me,  just  on  gen- 
eral principles,"  he  went  on,  his  honest,  gray  eyes  taking 
in  the  circle  of  attentive  faces.  "  If  the  bunch  of  us 
could  pool  our  interests  and  use  what  rights  we  got,  we 
can  corral  about  four  thousand  acres  —  and  we  can  head 
off  outsiders  from  grazing  in  the  Badlands,  if  we  take 
our  land  right.  We've  been  overlooking  a  bet,  and  don't 
you  forget  it.  We've  been  fooling  around,  just  putting 
in  our  time  and  drawing  wages,  when  we  could  be 
owning  our  own  grazing  land  by  now  and  shipping  our 
own  cattle,  if  we  had  enough  sense  to  last  us  overnight. 

"  A-course,  I  ain't  crazy  about  turning  nester,  my- 
self —  but  we've  let  things  slide  till  we've  got  to  come 
through  or  get  outa  the  game.  It's  a  fact,  boys,  about 
them  dry-farmers  coming  in  on  us.  That  Minneapolis 
bunch  that  the  blonde  lady  works  for  is  sending  out  a 
colony  of  farmers  to  take  up  this  land  between  here 
and  the  Bear  Paws.  The  lady  tipped  her  hand,  not 
knowing  where  I  ranged  and  thinking  I  wouldn't  be 
interested  in  anything  but  her.  She's  a  real  nice  lady, 
too,  and  goodlooking  —  but  a  grafter  to  her  last  eye- 


TURNING    NESTERS  63 

winker.  And  she  hit  too  close  home  to  suit  me,  when 
she  named  the  place  where  they're  going  to  dump  their 
colony." 

"  Where  does  the  graft  come  in  ? "  inquired  Pink 
cautiously.  "  The  farmers  get  the  land,  don't  they  ?  " 
"  Sure,  they  get  the  land.  And  they  pungle  up  a 
good-sized  fee  to  Florence  Grace  Hallman  and  her  out- 
fit, for  locating  ?em.  Also  there's  side  money  in  it, 
near  as  I  can  find  out.  They  skin  the  farmers  somehow 
on  the  fare  out  here.  That's  their  business,  according 
to  the  lady.  They  prowl  around  through  the  govern- 
ment plats  till  they  spot  a  few  thousand  acres  of  land 
in  a  chunk ;  they  take  a  look  at  it,  maybe,  and  then  they 
boom  it  like  hell,  and  get  them  eastern  marks  hooked 
-them  with  money,  the  lady  said.  Then  they  ship 
a  bunch  out  here,  locate  'em  on  the  land  and  leave  it 
up  to  them,  whether  they  scratch  a  living  or  not.  She 
said  they  urge  the  rubes  to  bring  all  the  stock  they  can, 
because  there's  plenty  of  range  left.  She  says  they 
play  that  up  big.  You  can  see  for  yourself  how  that'll 
work  out,  around  here !  " 

Pink  eyed  him  attentively,  and  suddenly  his  dimples 

stood    deep.     "  All    right,    I'm    It,"    he    surrendered. 

"  It'd  be  a  sin  not  to  fall  for  a  yarn  like  that,  Andy. 

I  expect  you  made  it  all  up  outa  your  own  head,  but 

that's  all  right.     It's  a  pleasure  to  be  fooled  by  a 


64    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

genius  like  you.  I'll  go  raising  turnips  and  cabbages 
myself." 

"  By  golly,  you  couldn't  raise  nothing  but  hell  up 
on  that  dry  bench,"  Slim  observed  ponderously. 
"  There  ain't  any  water.  What's  the  use  uh  talking 
foolish  ? " 

"  They're  going  to  tackle  it,  just  the  same,"  Andy 
pointed  out  patiently. 

"  Well,  by  golly,  if  you  ain't  just  lyin'  to  hear  your- 
self, that  there  graftin'  bunch  had  oughta  be  strung 
up!" 

"  Sure,  they  had.  Nobody's  going  to  argue  about 
that.  But  seeing  we  can't  do  that,  the  next  best  thing 
is  to  beat  them  to  it.  If  they  came  out  here  with  their 
herd  of  pilgrims  and  found  the  land  all  took  up  — " 
Andy  smiled  hypnotically  upon  the  goggling  group. 

"  Haw-haw-haw-w !  "  bawled  Big  Medicine.  "  It'd 
be  wuth  it,  by  cripes !  " 

"  Yeah  —  it  would,  all  right.  If  that  talk  Andy's 
been  giving  us  is  straight,  about  grazing  the  land  in- 
stead uh  working  it  — " 

"  You  can  mighty  quick  find  out,"  Andy  retorted. 
"  Go  up  and  ask  Chip  for  them  land  laws,  and  that  plat. 
And  ask  him  what  he  thinks  about  the  deal.  You  don't 
have  to  take  my  word  for  it."  Andy  grinned  virtu- 
ously and  pushed  back  his  chair.  From  their  faces, 


TURNING   NESTERS  65 

and  the  remarks  they  had  made,  he  felt  very  confident 
of  the  ultimate  decision.  "  What  about  you,  Patsy  ?  " 
he  asked  suddenly,  turning  to  the  bulky,  bald  German 
cook  who  was  thumping  bread  dough  in  a  far  corner. 
"  You  got  any  homestead  or  desert  rights  you  ain't 
used?" 

"  Py  cosh,  I  got  all  der  rights  dere  iss,"  Patsy  re- 
turned querulously.  "  I  got  more  rights  as  you 
shmartys.  I  got  soldier's  rights  mit  fightin'.  Und  py 
cosh,  I  use  him  too  if  dem  fellers  coom  by  us  mit  der 
dry  farms  alreatty !  " 

"  Well,  you  son-of-a-gun ! "  Andy  smote  him 
elatedly  upon  a  fat  shoulder.  "  What  do  you  know 
about  old  Patsy  for  a  dead  game  sport  ?  By  gracious, 
that  makes  another  three  hundred  and  twenty  to  the 
good.  Gee,  it's  lucky  this  bunch  has  gone  along  turn- 
ing up  their  noses  at  nesters  and  thinkin'  they  couldn't 
be  real  punchers  and  hold  down  claims  too.  If  any  of 
us  had  had  sense  enough  to  grab  a  piece  of  land  and 
settle  down  to  raise  families,  we'd  be  right  up  against 
it  now.  We'd  have  to  set  back  and  watch  a  bunch  of 
down-east  rubes  light  down  on  us  like  flies  on  spilt 
molasses,  and  we  couldn't  do  a  thing." 

"  As  it  is,  we'll  all  turn  nesters  for  the  good  of  the 
cause !  "  finished  Pink  somewhat  cynically,  getting  up 
and  following  Cal  and  Slim  to  the  door. 


66    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Aw,  I  betche  they's  some  ketch  to  it !  "  gloomed 
Happy  Jack.  "  I  betche  Andy  jest  wants  to  see  us 
takin'  up  claims  on  that  dry  bench,  and  then  set  back 
and  laugh  at  us  fer  bitin'  on  his  josh." 

"  Well,  you'll  have  the  claims,  won't  you  ?  And  if 
you  hang  onto  them  there'll  be  money  in  the  deal  some 
day.  Why,  darn  your  bomb-proof  skull,  can't  you  get  it 
into  your  system  that  all  this  country's  bound  to  settle 
up  ?  "  Andy's  eyes  snapped  angrily.  "  Can't  you  see 
the  difference  between  us  owning  the  land  between  here 
and  the  mountains,  and  a  bunch  of  outsiders  that'll  cut 
it  all  up  into  little  fields  and  try  to  farm  it?  If  you 
c  n't  see  that,  you  better  go  hack  a  hole  in  your  head 
with  an  axe,  so  an  idea  can  squeeze  in  now  and  then 
when  you  ain't  looking !  " 

"  Well,  I  betche  there  ain't  no  colony  comin'  to  settle 
that  there  bench,"  Happy  Jack  persisted  stubbornly. 

"  Yes  there  is,  by  cripes !  "  trumpeted  Big  Medicine 
behind  him.  "  Yes  there  is !  And  that  there  colony 
is  goin'  to  be  us,  and  don't  you  forget  it.  It's  time 
I  was  doin'  somethin'  fer  that  there  boy  uh  mine,  by 
cripes!  And  soon  as  we  git  that  fence  strung  I'm 
goin'  to  hit  the  trail  fer  the  nearest  land  office.  Honest 
to  grandma,  if  Andy's  lyin'  it's  goin'  to  be  the 
prof't'blest  lie  lie  ever  told,  er  anybody  else.  I  don't 
care  a  cuss  about  whether  them  dry-farmers  is  fixin'  to 


TURNING    NESTERS  67 

light  here  or  not.     That  there  land-pool  looks  good  to 
me,  and  I'm  comin'  in  on  it  with  all  four  feet !  " 

Big  Medicine  was  nothing  less  than  a  human  land- 
slide when  once  he  threw  himself  into  anything,  be  it  a 
fight  or  a  frolic.  ISFow  he  blocked  the  way  to  the  door 
with  his  broad  shoulders  and  his  big  bellow  and  his  en- 
thusiasm, and  his  pale,  frog-like  eyes  fixed  their  pro- 
truding stare  accusingly  upon  the  reluctant  ones. 

"  Cal,  you  git  up  there  and  git  that  plat  and  bring 
it  here/7  he  ordered.  "  And  fer  criminy  sake  git  that 
table  cleared  off,  Patsy,  so's't  we  kin  have  a  place  to  lay 
it!  What's  eatin'  on  you  fellers,  standin'  around  like 
girls  to  a  party,  waitin'  fer  somebody  to  come  up  and 
ast  you  to  dance!  Ain't  you  got  head  enough  to  see 
what  a  cinch  we  got,  if  we  only  got  sense  enough  to  play 
it?  Honest  to  grandma  you  make  me  sick  to  look  at 
yuh!  Down  in  Conconino  County  the  boys  wouldn't 
stand  back  and  wait  to  be  purty-pleased  into  a  thing  like 
this.  You're  so  scared  Andy's  got  a  josh  covered  up 
somewheres,  you  wouldn't  take  a  drink  uh  whisky  if  he 
ast  yuh  up  to  the  bar!  You'd  pass  up  a  Chris'mas 
turkey,  by  cripes,  if  yuh  seen  Andy  washin'  his  face 
and  lookin'  hungry!  You'd  - 

What  further  reproach  he  would  have  heaped  upon 
them  was  interrupted  by  Chip,  who  opened  the  door 
just  then  and  bumped  Big  Medicine  in  the  back.  In 


68    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

his  hand  Chip  carried  the  land  plat  and  the  pamphlets, 
and  in  his  keen,  brown  eyes  he  carried  the  light  of 
battle  for  his  outfit.  The  eyes  of  Andy  Green  sent 
bright  glances  from  him  to  Big  Medicine,  and  on  to  the 
others.  He  was  too  wise  then  to  twit  those  others  with 
their  unbelief.  His  wisdom  went  farther  than  that; 
for  he  remained  very  much  in  the  background  of  the 
conversation  and  contented  himself  with  answering, 
briefly  and  truthfully,  the  questions  they  put  to  him 
about  Florence  Grace  Hallman  and  the  things  she  had  so 
foolishly  divulged  concerning  her  plans. 

Chip  spread  the  plat  upon  an  end  of  the  table  hastily 
and  effectually  cleared  by  a  sweep  of  Big  Medicine's 
arm,  and  the  Happy  Family  crowded  close  to  stare 
down  at  the  checker-board  picture  of  their  own  familiar 
bench  land.  They  did  not  doubt,  now  —  nor  did  they 
hang  back  reluctantly.  Instead  they  followed  eagerly 
the  trail  Chip's  cigarette-yellowed  finger  took  across  the 
map,  and  they  listened  intently  to  what  he  said  about 
that  trail. 

The  clause  about  grazing  the  land,  he  said,  simplified 
matters  a  whole  lot.  It  was  a  cinch  you  couldn't  turn 
loose  and  dry-farm  that  land  and  have  even  a  fair 
chance  of  reaping  a  harvest.  But  as  grazing  land  they 
could  hold  all  the  land  along  One  Man  Creek  —  and 
that  was  a  lot.  And  the  land  lying  back  of  that,  and 


TURNING   NESTERS  69 

higher  up  toward  the  foothills,  they  could  take  as  desert. 
And  he  maintained  that  Andy  had  been  right  in  his 
judgment:  If  they  all  went  into  it  and  pulled  to- 
gether they  could  stretch  a  line  of  claims  that  would 
protect  the  Badland  grazing  effectually. 

"  I  wouldn't  ask  you  fellows  to  go  into  this,"  said 
Chip,  straightening  from  his  stooping  over  the  map  and 
looking  from  one  sober  face  to  another,  "  just  to  help 
the  outfit.  But  it'll  be  a  good  thing  for  you  boys. 
It'll  give  you  a  foothold  —  something  better  than  wages, 
if  you  stay  with  your  claims  and  prove  up.  Of  course, 
I  can't  say  anything  about  us  buying  out  your  claims 
—  that's  fraud,  according  to  Hoyle;  but  you  ain't 
simple-minded  —  you  know  your  land  won't  be  begging 
for  a  buyer,  in  case  you  should  ever  want  to  sell. 

"  There's  another  thing.  This  will  not  only  head  off 
the  dry-farmers  from  overstocking  what  little  range  is 
left  —  it'll  make  a  dead-line  for  sheep,  too.  We've 
been  letting  'em  graze  back  and  forth  on  the  bench  back 
here  beyond  our  leased  land,  and  not  saying  much,  so 
long  as  they  didn't  crowd  up  too  close,  and  kept  going. 
With  all  our  claims  under  fence,  do  you  realize  what 
that'll  mean  for  the  grass  ?  " 

"  Josephine !  There's  feed  for  considerable  stock, 
right  over  there  on  our  claims,  to  say  nothing  of  what 
we'll  cover,"  exclaimed  Pink. 


70    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  I'd  tell  a  man !  And  if  we  get  water  on  the  desert 
claims  — "  Chip  grinned  down  at  him.  "  See  what 
we've  heen  passing  up,  all  this  time  ?  We've  had  some 
of  it  leased,  of  course  —  but  that  can't  be  done  again. 
There's  been  some  wire-pulling,  and  because  we  ain't 
politicians  we  got  turned  down  when  the  Old  Man 
wanted  to  renew  the  lease.  I  can  see  now  why  it  was, 
maybe.  This  dry-farm  business  had  something  to  do 
with  it,  if  you  ask  me." 

"  Gee  whiz !  And  here  we've  been  calling  Andy  a 
liar,"  sighed  Cal  Emmett. 

"  Aw,  jest  because  he  happened  to  tell  the  truth  once, 
don't  cut  no  ice,"  Happy  Jack  maintained  with  suffi- 
cient ambiguity  to  avert  the  natural  consequences. 

"  Of  course,  it  won't  be  any  gold-mine,"  Chip  added 
dispassionately.  "  But  it's  worth  picking  up,  all  right ; 
and  if  it'll  keep  out  a  bunch  of  tight-fisted  settlers 
that  don't  give  a  darn  for  anything  but  what's  inside 
their  own  fence,  that's  worth  a  lot,  too." 

"  Say,  my  dad's  a  farmer,"  Pink  declared  defiantly 
in  his  soft  treble.  "  And  while  I  think  of  it,  them 
eastern  farmers  ain't  so  worse  —  not  the  brand  I've 
seen,  anyway.  They're  narrow,  maybe  —  but  they're 
human.  Damn  it,  you  fellows  have  got  to  quit  talking 
about  'em  as  if  they  were  blackleg  stock,  or  grasshop- 
pers or  something." 


TURNING   NESTERS  71 

"  We  ain't  saying  nothing  aginst  farmers  as  farmers, 
Little  One,"  Big  Medicine  explained  forebearingly. 
"  As  men,  and  as  women,  and  as  kids,  they're  mighty 
nice  folks.  My  folks  have  got  an  eighty-acre  farm  in 
Wisconsin,"  he  confessed  unexpectedly,  "  and  I  think  a 
pile  of  'em.  But  if  they  was  to  come  out  here,  trying 
to  horn  in  on  our  range,  I'd  lead  'em  gently  to  the  rail- 
road, by  cripes,  and  tell  'em  goodbye  so's't  they'd  know 
I  meant  it !  Can't  yuh  see  the  difference  ?  "  he  bawled, 
goggling  at  Pink  with  misleading  savageness  in  his 
ugly  face. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  Pink  admitted  mildly.  "  I  only  just 
wanted  to  remind  you  fellows  that  I  don't  mean  any- 
thing personal  and  I  don't  want  you  to.  Say,  what 
about  One  Man  Coulee  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly.  "  That's 
marked  vacant  on  the  map.  I  always  thought  — " 

"  Sure,  you  did !  "  Chip  grinned  at  him  wisely,  "  be- 
cause we  used  it  for  a  line  camp,  you  thought  we  owned 
a  deed  to  it.  Well,  we  don't.  We  had  that  land  leased, 
is  all." 

"  Say,  by  golly,  I'll  file  on  that,  then,"  Slim  declared 
selfishly.  For  One  Man  Coulee,  although  a  place  of 
gruesome  history,  was  also  desirable  for  one  or  two 
reasons.  There  was  wood,  for  instance,  and  water, 
and  a  cabin  that  was  habitable.  There  was  also  a  fence 
on  the  place,  a  corral  and  a  small  stable.  "  If  Happy's 


72    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

ghost  don't  git  to  playin'  music  too  much/'  he  added  with 
his  heavy-handed  wit. 

"  No,  sir !  You  ain't  going  to  have  One  Man  Coulee 
unless  Andy,  here,  says  he  don't  want  it !  "  shouted  Big 
Medicine.  "  I  leave  it  to  Chip  if  Andy  hadn't  oughta 
have  first  pick.  He's  the  feller  that's  put  us  onto 
this,  by  cripes,  and  he's  the  feller  that's  going  to  pick 
his  claim  first." 

Chip  did  not  need  to  sanction  that  assertion.  The 
whole  Happy  Family  agreed  unanimously  that  it  should 
be  so, —  except  Slim,  who  yielded  a  bit  unwillingly. 

Till  midnight  and  after,  they  bent  heads  over  the  plat 
and  made  plans  for  the  future  and  took  no  thought 
whatever  of  the  difficulties  that  might  lie  before  them. 
For  the  coming  colony  they  had  no  pity,  and  for  the 
balked  schemes  of  the  Homeseekers'  Syndicate  no  com- 
punctions whatever. 

So  Andy  Green,  having  seen  his  stratagem  well  on 
the  way  to  success,  and  feeling  once  more  the  well- 
earned  confidence  of  his  fellows,  slept  soundly  that 
night  in  his  own  bed,  serenely  sure  of  the  future. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    FIKST    BLOW    IN    THE    FIGHT 

LETTERS  went  speeding  to  Irish  and  Jack 
Bates,  absent  members  of  the  Happy  Family  of 
the  Flying  U;  letters  that  explained  the  situation  with 
profane  completeness,  set  forth  briefly  the  plan  of  the 
proposed  pool,  and  which  importuned  them  to  come 
home  or  make  haste  to  the  nearest  land-office  and  file 
upon  certain  quarter-sections  therein  minutely  de- 
scribed. Those  men  who  would  be  easiest  believed 
wrote  and  signed  the  letters,  and  certain  others  added 
characteristic  postscripts  best  calculated  to  bring  re- 
sults. 

After  that,  the  Happy  Family  debated  upon  the  bold- 
ness of  going  in  a  body  to  Great  Falls  to  file  upon  their 
claims,  or  the  caution  of  proceeding  instead  to  Glasgow, 
where  the  next  nearest  land-office  might  be  found. 
Slim  and  Happy  Jack  favored  caution  and  Glasgow. 
The  others  sneered  at  their  timidity,  as  they  were  wont 
to  do. 

"  Yuh  think  Florence  Grace  Hallman  is  going  to 


74    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

stand  guard  with  a  six-gun  ?  "  Andy  challenged  at  last. 
"  She's  tied  up  till  her  colony  gets  there.  She  can't 
file  on  all  that  land  herself,  can  she  ?  "  He  smiled 
reminiscently.  "  The  lady  asked  me  to  come  up  to  the 
Falls  and  see  her,"  he  said  softly.  "  I'm  going.  The 
rest  of  you  can  take  the  same  train,  I  reckon  —  she 
won't  stop  you  from  it,  and  I  won't.  And  who's  to 
stop  you  from  filing  ?  The  land's  there,  open  for  settle- 
ment. At  least  it  was  open,  day  before  yesterday." 

"  Well,  by  golly,  the  sooner  we  go  the  better,"  Slim 
declared  fussily.  "  That  fencin'  kin  wait.  We  gotta 
go  and  git  back  before  Chip  wants  to  start  out  the 
wagons,  too." 

"  Listen  here,  hombres"  called  the  Native  Son  from 
the  window,  where  he  had  been  studying  the  well- 
thumbed  pamphlet  containing  the  homestead  law.  "  If 
we  want  to  play  dead  safe  on  this,  we  all  better  quit  the 
outfit  before  we  go.  Call  for  our  time.  I  don't  like 
the  way  some  of  this  stuff  reads." 

"  I  don't  like  the  way  none  of  it  reads,"  grumbled 
Happy  Jack.  "  I  betche  we  can't  make  it  go ;  they's 
some  ketch  to  it.  We'll  never  git  a  patent.  I'll  betche 
anything  yuh  like." 

"  Well,  pull  out  of  the  game,  then !  "  snapped  Andy 
Green,  whose  nerves  were  beginning  to  feel  the  strain 
put  upon  them. 


THE    FIRST    BLOW  75 

"  I  ain't  in  it  yet/'  said  Happy  Jack  sourly,  and 
banged  the  door  shut  upon  his  departure. 

Andy  scowled  and  returned  to  studying  the  map. 
Finally  he  reached  for  his  hat  and  gloves  in  the  man- 
ner of  one  who  has  definitely  made  up  his  mind  to  some- 
thing. 

"  Well,  the  rest  of  you  can  do  as  you  darned  please," 
he  delivered  his  ultimatum  from  the  doorway.  "  I'm 
going  to  catch  up  my  horse,  draw  a  month's  wages  and 
hit  the  trail.  I  can  catch  the  evening  train  to  the  Falls, 
easy,  and  be  ready  to  file  on  my  chunk  first  thing  in  the 
morning." 

"  Ain't  in  any  rush,  are  yuh  ? "  Pink  inquired 
facetiously.  "  If  I  had  my  dinner  settled  and  this 
cigarette  smoked,  I  might  go  along  —  provided  you 
don't  take  the  trail  with  yuh." 

"  Hold  on,  boys,  and  listen  to  this,"  the  Native  Son 
called  out  imperatively.  "  I  think  we  better  get  a 
move  on,  too ;  but  we  want  to  get  a  fair  running  start, 
and  not  fall  over  this  hump.  Listen  here !  We've  got 
to  swear  that  it  is  '  not  for  the  benefit  of  any  other 
person,  persons  or  corporation '  and  so  on ;  and  farther 
along  it  says  we  must  not  act  in  collusion  with  any  per- 
son, persons  or  corporation,  to  give  them  the  benefit  of 
the  land.  There's  more  of  the  same  kind,  too,  but 
you  see — " 


76    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Well,  who's  acting  in  collusion  ?  What's  collusion 
mean  anyhow  ?  "  Slim  demanded  aggressively. 

"  It  means  what  we're  aiming  to  do  —  if  anybody 
could  prove  it  on  us,"  explained  the  Native  Son.  '"  My 
oldest  brother's  a  lawyer,  and  I  caught  some  of  it  from 
him.  And  my  expert,  legal  advice  is  this :  to  get  into  a 
row  with  the  Old  Man,  maybe  —  anyway,  quit  him  cold, 
so  we  get  our  time.  We  must  let  that  fact  percolate 
the  alleged  brains  of  Dry  Lake  and  vicinity  —  and  if  we 
give  any  reason  for  taking  claims  right  under  the  nose 
of  the  Flying  U,  why,  we're  doing  it  to  spite  the  Old 
Man.  Sabe?  Otherwise  we're  going  to  have  trouble 
—  unless  that  colony  scheme  is  just  a  pipe  dream  of 
Andy's." 

The  Happy  Family  had  learned  to  respect  the  opin- 
ions of  the  Native  Son,  whose  mixture  of  Irish  blood 
with  good  Castilian  may  have  had  something  to  do  with 
his  astuteness.  Once,  as  you  may  have  heard,  the 
Native  Son  even  scored  in  a  battle  of  wits  with  Andy 
Green,  and  scored  heavily.  And  he  had  helped  Andy 
pull  the  Flying  U  out  of  an  extremely  ticklish  situa- 
tion, by  his  keen  wit  saving  the  outfit  much  trouble  and 
money.  Wherefore  they  heeded  now  his  warning  to  the 
extent  of  unsmilingly  discussing  the  obstacle  he  had 
pointed  out  to  them.  One  after  another  they  read  the 
paragraph  which  they  had  before  passed  over  too  hastily, 


THE    FIRST    BLOW  77 

and  sensed  the  possibilities  of  its  construction.  After- 
ward they  went  into  serious  consultation  as  to  .ways  and 
means,  calling  Happy  Jack  back  so  that  he  might  un- 
derstand thoroughly  what  must  be  done.  For  the 
Happy  Family  was  nothing  if  not  thorough,  and  their 
partisanship  that  had  been  growing  insensibly  stronger 
through  the  years  was  roused  as  it  had  not  been  since 
Dunk  Whittaker  drove  sheep  in  upon  the  Flying  U. 

The  Old  Man,  having  eaten  a  slice  of  roast  pork  the 
size  of  his  two  hands,  in  defiance  of  his  sister's  profes- 
sional prohibition  of  the  indulgence,  was  sitting  on  the 
sunny  side  of  the  porch  trying  to  ignore  the  first  uneasy 
symptoms  of  indigestion.  The  Little  Doctor  had  taken 
his  pipe  away  from  him  that  morning,  and  had  badgered 
him  into  taking  a  certain  decoction  whose  taste  lingered 
bitterly.  The  paper  he  was  reading  was  four  days  old 
and  he  disagreed  with  its  political  policy,  and  there 
was  no  telling  when  anyone  would  have  time  to  go  in 
after  the  mail  and  his  favorite  paper.  Ranch  work  was 
growing  heavier  each  year  in  proportion  to  the  lighten- 
ing of  range  wol-k.  He  was  going  to  sow  another  twenty 
acres  of  alfalfa,  and  to  do  that  he  must  cut  down  the 
size  of  his  pasture  —  something  that  always  went 
against  the  grain.  He  had  not  been  able  to  renew  his 
lease  of  government  land, —  which  also  went  against 
the  grain.  And  the  Kid,  like  the  last  affliction  which 


78    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

the  Lord  sent  unto  Job  —  Fve  forgotten  whether  that 
was  boils  or  the  butchery  of  his  offspring  —  came  loping 
down  the  length  of  the  porch  and  kicked  the  Old  Man's 
bunion  with  a  stubby  boot-toe. 

Thus  was  born  the  psychological  moment  when  the 
treachery  of  the  Happy  Family  would  cut  deepest. 

They  came,  bunched  and  talking  low-voiced  together 
with  hatbrims  hiding  shamed  eyes,  a  type-true  group  of 
workers  bearing  a  grievance.  Not  a  man  was  absent 
-the  Happy  Family  saw  to  that!  Even  Patsy,  big 
and  sloppy  and  bearing  with  him  stale  kitchen  odors, 
limped  stolidly  in  the  rear  beside  Slim,  who  looked 
guilty  as  though  he  had  been  strangling  somebody's 
favorite  cat. 

The  Old  Man,  bent  head-foremost  over  his  growing 
paunch  that  he  might  caress  his  outraged  bunion,  glared 
at  them  with  belligerent  curiosity  from  under  his  gray- 
ing eyebrows.  The  group  came  on  and  stopped  short 
at  the  steps  —  and  I  don't  suppose  the  Happy  Family 
will  ever  look  such  sneaks  again  whatever  crime  they 
may  commit.  The  Old  Man  straightened  with  a  grunt 
of  pain  because  of  his  lame  back,  and  waited.  Which 
made  it  all  the  harder  for  the  Happy  Family,  especially 
for  Andy  Green  who  had  been  chosen  spokesman  —  for 
his  sins  perhaps. 

"  We'd  like  our  time/'  blurted  Andy  after  an  un- 


THE    FIRST    BLOW  79 

pleasant  silence,  and  fixed  his  eyes  frigidly  upon  the 
lowest  rung  of  the  Old  Man's  chair. 

"  Oh,  you  would,  hunh  ?  The  whole  bunch  of  yuh  ?  " 
The  Old  Man  eyed  them  incredulously. 

"  Yes,  the  whole  hunch  of  us.     We're  going  to  quit." 

The  Old  Man's  jaw  dropped  a  little,  but  his  eyes  did 
not  waver  from  their  hangdog  faces.  "  Well,  I  never 
coaxed  a  man  to  stay  yet,"  he  stated  grimly,  "  and  I'm 
gittin'  too  old  in  the  business  to  start  coaxin'  now. 
Dell !  "  He  turned  stiffly  in  his  chair  so  that  he  faced 
the  open  door.  "  Bring  me  my  time  and  check  books 
out  a  the  desk !  " 

A  gray  hardness  came  slowly  to  the  Old  Man's  face 
while  he  waited,  his  seamed  hands  gripping  the  padded 
arms  of  his  chair.  A  tightness  pulled  at  his  lips  be- 
hind the  grizzled  whiskers.  It  never  occurred  to  him 
now  that  the  Happy  Family  might  be  perpetrating  one 
of  their  jokes.  He  had  looked  at  their  faces,  you  see. 
They  meant  to  quit  him  —  quit  him  cold  just  as  spring 
work  was  beginning.  They  were  ashamed  of  them- 
selves, of  course;  they  had  a  right  to  be  ashamed,  he 
thought  bitterly.  It  hurt  —  hurt  so  that  he  would 
have  died  before  he  would  ask  for  excuse,  reason,  griev- 
ance, explanation  —  for  whatever  motive  impelled  them. 
So  he  waited,  and  he  gripped  the  arms  of  his  chair,  and 
he  clamped  his  mouth  shut  and  did  not  speak  a  word. 


80    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

The  Happy  Family  had  expected  him  to  swear  at 
them  stormily;  to  accuse  them  of  vile  things;  to  call 
them  such  names  as  his  memory  could  seize  upon  or  his 
ingenuity  invent.  They  had  been  careful  to  prepare 
a  list  of  plausible  reasons  for  leaving  then.  They  had 
first  invented  a  gold  rumor  that  they  hoped  would  sound 
convincing,  but  Andy  had  insisted  upon  telling  him 
straightforwardly  that  they  did  not  favor  fence-build- 
ing and  ditch-digging  and  such  back-breaking  toil ;  that 
they  were  range  men  and  they  demanded  range  work 
or  none ;  that  if  they  must  dig  ditches  and  build  fences 
and  perform  like  menial  tasks,  they  preferred  doing  it 
for  themselves.  "  That/'  said  Andy,  "  makes  us  out 
such  dirty,  low-down  sons-of-guns  we'd  have  to  climb  a 
tree  to  look  a  snake  in  the  eye,  but  it's  got  the  grain  of 
truth  that'll  make  it  go  down.  We  don't  love  this  farm- 
ing graft,  and  the  Old  Man  knows  it.  He's  heard  us 
kicking  often  enough.  That's  where  it'll  git  him. 
He'll  believe  this  last  stretch  of  fence  is  what  made  us 
throw  him  down,  and  he'll  be  so  mad  he'll  cuss  us  out 
till  the  neighbors'll  think  the  smoke's  a  prairie  fire. 
We'll  get  our  time,  all  right,  and  the  things  he'll  say 
will  likely  make  us  so  hot  we  can  all  talk  convincing 
when  we  hit  town.  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  boys.  We 
got  to  do  it,  and  he'll  make  us  mad,  so  it  won't  be  as 
hard  as  you  imagine." 


THE    FIRST   BLOW  81 

The  theory  was  good,  and  revealed  a  knowledge  of 
human  nature  that  made  one  cease  to  wonder  why  Andy 
was  a  prince  of  convincing  liars.  The  theory  was  good 

—  nothing  in  the  world  was  the  matter  with  it,  except 
that  in  this  particular  instance  it  did  not  work.     The 
Old  Man  did  not  ask  for  their  reasons,  excuses  or  ex- 
planations.    Neither  did  he  say  anything  or  do  any- 
thing to  make  them  mad.     He  just  sat  there,  with  his 
face  gray  and  hard,  and  said  nothing  at  all. 

The  Little  Doctor  appeared  with  the  required  books 
and  a  fountain  pen;  saw  the  Happy  Family  standing 
there  like  condemned  men  at  the  steps;  saw  the  Old 
Man's  face,  and  trembled  wide-eyed  upon  the  verge  of 
speech.  Then  she  decided  that  this  was  no  time  for 
questioning  and  hurried,  still  wide  of  eye,  away  from 
sight  of  them.  The  Happy  Family  did  not  look  at 
one  another  —  they  looked  chiefly  at  the  wall  of  the 
house. 

The  Old  Man  reckoned  the  wages  due  each  one,  and 
wrote  a  check  for  the  exact  amount.  And  he  spoke  no 
word  that  did  not  intimately  concern  the  matter  in 
hand.  He  still  had  that  gray,  hard  look  in  his  face 
that  froze  whatever  explanation  they  would  otherwise 
have  volunteered.  And  when  he  handed  the  last  man 

—  who  was  Patsy  —  his  check,  he  got  up  stiffly  and 
turned  his  back  upon  them,  and  went  inside  arid  closed 


82    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

the  door  while  yet  they  lingered,  waiting  to  explain. 

At  the  bunk-house,  whence  they  walked  silently,  Slim 
turned  suddenly  upon  their  leader.  His  red  face  had 
gone  a  sallow  white,  and  the  whites  of  his  eyes  were 
veined  with  red. 

"  If  that  there  land  business  falls  down  anywhere  be- 
cause you  lied  to  us,  Andy  Green,  I'll  kill  you  fer  this," 
he  stated  flatly. 

"If  it  does,  Slim,  I'll  stand  and  let  yuh  shoot  me  as 
full  of  lead  as  you  like,"  Andy  promised,  in  much  the 
same  tone.  Then  he  strove  to  shake  off  the  spell  of  the 
Old  Man's  stricken  silence.  "  Buck  up,  boys.  He'll 
thank  us  for  what  we  aim  to  do  —  when  he  knows  all 
about  it." 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me,"  sighed  Weary  lugubriously, 
"  we  mighta  managed  it  without  hitting  the  Old  Man  a 
wallop  in  the  back,  like  that." 

"  How'n  hell  did  I  know  he'd  take  it  the  way  he 
did  ? "  Andy  questioned  sharply,  and  began  throwing 
his  personal  belongings  into  his  "  war-bag  "  as  if  he  had 
a  grudge  against  his  own  clothes. 

"  Aw,  looks  to  me  like  he  was  glad  to  git  shet  of  us !  " 
grumbled  Happy  Jack.  "  I  betche  he's  more  tickled 
than  sorry,  right  now." 

It  was  an  exceedingly  unhappy  Family  that  rode  up 
the  Hog's  Back  upon  their  private  mounts,  and  away 


THE    FIRST    BLOW  83 

from  the  Plying  U;  in  spite  of  Chip's  assurance  that 
he  would  tell  the  Old  Man  all  about  it  as  soon  as  he 
could,  it  was  an  ill-humored  Family  that  rode  into  Dry 
Lake  and  cashed  their  several  checks  at  the  desk  of  the 
General  Store  which  also  did  an  informal  banking  busi- 
ness, and  afterwards  took  the  train  for  Great  Falls. 

The  news  spread  through  the  town  that  old  J.  G. 
Whitmore  had  fired  the  Happy  Family  in  a  bunch  for 
some  unforgivable  crime  against  the  peace  and  dignity 
of  the  outfit,  and  that  the  boys  were  hatching  up  some 
scheme  to  get  even.  From  the  gossip  that  was  rolled 
relishfully  upon  the  tongues  of  the  Dry  Lake  scandal 
lovers,  the  Happy  Family  must  have  been  more  than 
sufficiently  convincing. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    COMING    OF    THEl    COLONY 

IF  you  would  see  northern  Montana  at  its  most  beau- 
tiful best,  you  should  see  it  in  mid-May  when  the 
ground-swallows  are  nesting  and  the  meadow  larks  are 
puffing  their  throats  and  singing  of  their  sweet  ecstasy 
with  life;  when  curlews  go  sailing  low  over  the  green, 
grassy  billows,  peering  and  perking  with  long  bills 
thrust  rapier-wise  through  the  sunny  stillness,  and  call- 
ing shrilly,  "  Cor-r-ecfc,  cor-r-eck !  " —  which,  I  take  it, 
is  simply  their  opinion  of  world  and  weather  given 
tersely  in  plain  English.  You  should  see  the  high 
prairies  then,  when  all  the  world  is  a-shimmer  with 
green  velvet  brocaded  brightly  in  blue  and  pink  and 
yellow  flower-patterns;  when  the  heat  waves  go  quiver- 
ing up  to  meet  the  sun,  so  that  the  far  horizons  wave 
like  painted  drop-scenes  stirred  by  a  breeze;  when  a 
hypnotic  spell  of  peace  and  bright  promises  is  woven 
over  the  rangeland  —  you  should  see  it  then,  if  you 
would  love  it  with  a  sweet  unreason  that  will  last  you 
through  all  the  years  to  come. 


COMING    OF    THE    COLONY     85 

The  Homeseekers'  Syndicate,  as  represented  by 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  —  she  of  the  wheat-yellow 
hair  and  the  tempting  red  lips  and  the  narrow,  cal- 
culating eyes  and  stubborn  chin  —  did  well  to  wait  for 
the  spell  of  the  prairies  when  the  wind  flowers  and  the 
lupines  blue  the  hillsides  and  the  new  grass  paints 
green  the  hollows. 

There  is  in  us  all  a  deep-rooted  instinct  to  create,  and 
never  is  that  instinct  so  nearly  dominant  as  in  the  spring 
when  the  grass  and  the  flowers  and  the  little,  new  leaves 
and  the  birds  all  sing  the  song  of  Creation  together. 
Then  is  when  case-hardened  city  dwellers  study  the 
bright  array  of  seed-packets  in  the  stores,  and  meditate 
rashly  upon  the  possibilities  of  back-yard  gardening. 
Then  is  when  the  seasoned  country-dwellers  walk  over 
their  farms  in  the  sunset  and  plan  largely  for  harvest 
time.  Then  is  when  the  salaried-folk  read  avidly  the 
real-estate  advertisements,  and  pore  optimistically  over 
folders  and  dream  of  chicken  ranches  and  fruit  ranches 
and  the  like.  Surely,  then,  the  Homeseekers'  Syndi- 
cate planned  well  the  date  of  their  excursion  into  the 
land  of  large  promise  (and  problematical  fulfilment) 
which  lay  east  of  Dry  Lake. 

Humors  of  the  excursion  seeped  through  the  channels 
of  gossip  and  set  the  town  talking  and  chuckling  and 
speculating  —  after  the  manner  of  very  small  towns. 


86     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Humors  grew  to  definite  though,  erroneous  statements  of 
•what  was  to  take  place.  Definite  statements  became 
certified  facts  that  bore  fruit  in  detailed  arrangements. 

Came  Florence  Grace  Hallman  smilingly  from  Great 
Falls,  to  canvass  the  town  for  "  accommodations." 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  was  a  capable  woman  and  a 
persuasive  one,  though  perhaps  a  shade  too  much  in- 
clined to  take  certain  things  for  granted  —  such  as 
Andy's  anchored  interest  in  her  and  her  project,  and  the 
probability  of  the  tract  remaining  just  as  it  had  been 
when  last  she  went  carefully  over  the  plat  in  the  land 
office.  Florence  Grace  Hallman  had  been  busy  ar- 
ranging the  details  of  the  coming  of  the  colony,  and  she 
had  neglected  to  visit  the  land  office  lately.  Since 
she  cannily  represented  the  excursion  as  being  merely  a 
sight-seeing  trip  —  or  some  such  innocuous  project  — 
she  failed  also  to  receive  any  inkling  of  recent  settle- 
ments. 

On  a  certain  sunny  morning  in  mid-May,  the  Happy 
Family  stood  upon  the  depot  platform  and  waited  for 
the  westbound  passenger,  that  had  attached  to  it  the 
special  car  of  the  Homeseekers'  Syndicate.  The 
Happy  Family  had  been  very  busy  during  the  past  three 
weeks.  They  had  taken  all  the  land  they  could,  and 
had  sighed  because  they  could  still  look  from  their 
claims  upon  pinnacles  as  yet  unclaimed  save  by  the 


COMING   OF    THE    COLONY    87 

government.  They  had  done  well.  From  the  south 
line  of  Meeker 's  land  in  the  very  foothills  of  the  Bear 
Paws,  to  the  north  line  of  the  Flying  U,  the  chain  of 
newly-filed  claims  remained  unbroken.  It  had  taken 
some  careful  work  upon  the  part  of  the  Happy  Family 
to  do  this  and  still  choose  land  not  absolutely  worthless 
except  from  a  scenic  viewpoint.  But  they  had  managed 
it,  with  some  bickering  and  a  good  deal  of  maneuver- 
ing. Also  they  had  hauled  loads  of  lumber  from  Dry 
Lake,  wherewith  to  build  their  monotonously  modest 
ten-by-twelve  shacks  with  one  door  and  one  window 
apiece  and  a  round  hole  in  the  roof  big  enough  for  a 
length  of  stove-pipe  to  thrust  itself  aggressively  into  the 
open  and  say  by  its  smoke  signal  whether  the  owner  was 
at  home.  And  now,  having  heard  of  the  mysterious 
excursion  due  that  day,  they  had  come  to  see  just  what 
would  take  place. 

"  She's  fifteen  minutes  late,"  the  agent  volunteered, 
thrusting  his  head  through  the  open  window.  "  Look- 
ing for  friends,  boys? " 

"  Andy  is,"  Pink  informed  him  cheerfully.  "  The 
rest  of  us  are  just  hanging  around  through  sympathy. 
It's  his  girl  coming." 

"Well,  I  guess  he  thinks  he  needs  a  housekeeper 
now,"  the  agent  grinned.  "  Why  don't  you  fellows  get 
busy  now  and  rustle  some  cooks  ?  " 


88    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Girls  don't  like  to  cook  over  a  camp-fire,"  Cal 
Emmett  told  him  soberly.  "  We  kinda  thought  we 
ought  to  build  our  shacks  first." 

"  You  can  pick  you  out  some  when  the  train  gets  in," 
said  the  agent,  accepting  a  match  from  Weary. 
"  There's  a  carload  of  — "  He  pulled  in  his  head 
hurriedly  and  laid  supple  fingers  on  the  telegraph  key 
to  answer  a  call,  and  the  Happy  Family  moved  down  to 
the  other  end  of  the  platform  where  there  was  more 
shade. 

The  agent  presently  appeared  pushing  the  truck  of 
outgoing  express,  a  cheap  trunk  and  a  basket  "  tele- 
scope "  belonging  to  one  of  the  hotel  girls  —  who  had 
quit  her  job  and  was  sitting  now  inside  waiting  for  the 
train  and  seeing  what  she  could  of  the  Flying  U  boys 
through  the  window  —  and  the  mail  sack.  He  placed 
the  truck  where  the  baggage  car  would  come  to  a  halt, 
stood  for  a  minute  looking  down  the  track  where  a 
smudge  of  smoke  might  at  any  moment  be  expected  to 
show  itself  over  the  low  ridge  of  a  hill,  glanced  at  the 
lazy  group  in  the  patch  of  shade  and  went  back  into 
the  office. 

"  There's  her  smoke,"  Cal  Emmett  announced  in  the 
midst  of  an  apathetic  silence. 

Weary  looked  up  from  whittling  a  notch  in  the  end 
of  a  platform  plank  and  closed  his  jack-knife  languidly. 


COMING   OF    THE    COLONY     89 

Andy  pushed  his  hat  backward  and  then  tilted  it  for- 
ward over  one  eyebrow  and  threw  away  his  cigarette. 

"  Wonder  if  Florence  Grace  will  be  riding  point  on 
the  bunch  ?  "  he  speculated  aloud.  "  If  she  is,  I'm  liable 
to  have  my  hands  full.  Florence  Grace  will  sure  be 
sore  when  she  finds  out  how  I  got  into  the  game." 

"  Aw,  I  betche  there  ain't  no  such  a  person,"  said 
Happy  Jack,  doubter  to  the  last. 

"  I  wish  there  wasn't,"  sighed  Andy.  "  Florence 
Gracfc  is  kinda  getting  on  my  nerves.  If  I  done  what 
I  feel  like  doing,  I'd  crawl  under  the  platform  and  size 
up  the  layout  through  a  crack.  Honest  to  gracious, 
boys,  I  hate  to  meet  that  lady." 

They  grinned  at  him  heartlessly  and  stared  at  the 
black  smudge  that  was  rolling  toward  them.  "  She's 
sure  hittin'  her  up,"  Pink  vouchsafed  with  a  certain 
tenseness  of  tone.  That  train  was  not  as  ordinary 
trains ;  dimly  they  felt  that  it  was  relentlessly  bringing 
them  trouble,  perhaps ;  certainly  a  problem  —  unless 
the  homeseekers  hovered  only  so  long  as  it  took  them  to 
see  that  wisdom  lay  in  looking  elsewhere  for  a  home. 
Still  - 

"  If  this  was  August  instead  of  May,  I  wouldn't 
worry  none  about  them  pilgrims  staying  long,"  Jack 
Bates  voiced  the  thought  that  was  uppermost  in  their 
minds. 


90    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  There  comes  two  livery  rigs  to  haul  'em  to  the 
hotel/7  Pink  pointed  out  as  he  glanced  toward  town. 
"  And  there's  another  one.  Johnny  told  me  every  room 
they've  got  is  spoke  for,  and  two  in  every  bed." 

"  That  wouldn't  take  no  crowd,"  Happy  Jack 
grumbled,  remembering  the  limitations  of  Dry  Lake's 
hotel.  "  Here  come  Chip  and  the  missus.  Wonder 
what  they  want  ?  " 

The  Little  Doctor  left  Chip  to  get  their  tickets  and 
walked  quickly  toward  them. 

"  Hello,  boys !  Waiting  for  someone,  or  just  going 
somewhere  ? " 

"  Waiting.  Same  to  you,  Mrs.  Chip,"  Weary  re- 
plied. 

"  To  me  ?  Well,  we're  going  up  to  make  our  filings. 
Claude  won't  take  a  homestead,  because  we'll  have  to 
stay  on  at  the  Flying  U,  of  course,  and  we  couldn't 
hold  one.  But  we'll  both  file  desert  claims.  J.  G. 
hasn't  been  a  bit  well,  and  I  didn't  dare  leave  him  be- 
fore —  and  of  course  Claude  wouldn't  go  till  I  did. 
That  the  passenger  coming,  or  a  freight  ?  " 

"  It's  the  train  —  with  the  dry-farmers,"  Andy  in- 
formed her  with  a  glance  at  the  nearing  smoke-smudge. 

"  Is  it  ?  We  aren't  any  too  soon  then,  are  we  ?  I 
left  Son  at  home  —  and  he  threatened  to  run  away  and 
live  with  you  boys.  I  almost  wish  I'd  brought  him 


COMING    OF    THE    COLONY    91 

along.  He's  been  perfectly  awful.  So  have  the  men 
Claude  hired  to  take  your  places,  if  you  want  to  know, 
boys.  I  believe  that  is  what  made  J.  G.  sick  —  hav- 
ing those  strange  men  on  the  place.  He's  been  like  a 
bear." 

"  Didn't  Chip  tell  him  — " 

"  He  did,  yes.  He  told  him  right  away,  that  even- 
ing. But  —  J.  G.  has  such  stubborn  ideas.  We 
couldn't  make  him  believe  that  anyone  would  be  crazy 
enough  to  take  up  that  land  and  try  to  make  a  living 
farming  it.  He — "  She  looked  sidewise  at  Andy 
and  pursed  her  lips  to  keep  from  smiling. 

"  He  thinks  I  lied  about  it,  I  suppose/'  said  that 
young  man  shrewdly. 

"  That's  what  he  says.  He  pretends  that  you  boys 
meant  to  quit,  and  just  thought  that  up  for  an  excuse. 
He'll  be  all  right  —  you  mustn't  pay  any  attention  — " 

"  Here  she  comes !  " 

A  black  nose  thrust  through  a  deep  cut  that  had  a 
curve  to  it.  At  their  feet  the  rails  began  to  hum*  The 
Little  Doctor  turned  hastily  to  see  if  Chip  were  coming. 
The  agent  came  out  with  a  handful  of  papers  and  stood 
waiting  with  the  rest.  Stragglers  moved  quickly,  and 
the  discharged  waitress  appeared  and  made  eyes  covertly 
at  Pink,  whom  she  considered  the  handsomest  one  o£ 
the  lot. 


92     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

The  train  slid  up,  slowed  and  stopped.  Two  coaches 
beyond  the  platform  a  worried  porter  descended  and 
placed  the  box-step  for  landing  passengers,  and  waited. 
From  that  particular  coach  began  presently  to  emerge 
a  fluttering,  exclaiming  stream  of  humanity  —  at  first 
mostly  feminine.  They  hovered  there  upon  the  cindery 
path  and  lifted  their  faces  to  watch  for  others  yet  to 
come,  and  the  babble  of  their  voices  could  be  heard 
above  the  engine  sounds. 

The  Happy  Family  looked  dumbly  at  one  another 
and  drew  back  closer  to  the  depot  wall. 

"  Aw,  I  knowed  there  was  some  ketch  to  it !  "  blurted 
Happy  Jack  with  dismal  satisfaction.  "  That  there 
ain't  no  colony —  It's  nothin'  but  a  bunch  of  school- 
ma'ams  !  " 

"  That  lady  ridin'  point  is  the  lady  herself,"  Andy 
murmured,  edging  behind  Weary  and  Pink  as  the  flut- 
ter came  closer.  "  That's  Florence  Grace  Hallman, 
boys." 

"  Well,  by  golly,  git  out  and  speak  your  little  piece, 
then !  "  muttered  Slim,  and  gave  Andy  an  unexpected 
push  that  sent  him  staggering  out  into  the  open  just  as 
the  leaders  were  coming  up. 

"  Why,  how  de  do,  Mr.  Green !  "  cried  the  blonde 
leader  of  the  flock.  "  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure, 
I'm  sure." 


COMING    OF    THE    COLONY    9a 

"  Yes  ma'am,  it  is,"  Andy  assented  mildly,  with  an 
eye  cocked  sidewise  in  search  of  the  guilty  man. 

The  blonde  leader  paused,  her  flock  coming  to  a  flut- 
tering, staring  stand  behind  her.  The  nostrils  of  the 
astonished  Happy  Family  caught  a  mingled  odor  of 

travel  luncheons  and  perfume. 
r 

"  Well,  where  have  you  been,  Mr.  Green  ?  Why 
didn't  you  come  and  see  me  ? "  demanded  Florence 
Grace  Hallman  in  the  tone  of  one  who  has  a  right  to 
ask  leading  questions.  Her  cool,  brown,  calculating 
eyes  went  appraisingly  over  the  Happy  Family  while 
she  spoke. 

"  I've  been  right  around  here,  all  the  time,"  Andy 
gave  meek  account  of  himself.  "  I've  been  busy." 

"  Oh.  Did  you  go  over  the  tract,  Mr.  Green  ?  "  she 
lowered  her  voice. 

["  Yes-s  —  I  went  over  it." 
"  And  what  do  you  think  of  it  —  privately  ?  " 

"  Privately  —  it's  pretty  big."  Andy  sighed.  The- 
bigness  of  that  tract  had  worried  the  Happy  Family  a 
good  deal. 

"  Well,  the  bigger  the  better.  You  see  I've  got  'em 
started."  She  flicked  a  glance  backward  at  her  waiting 
colony.  "  You  men  are  perfectly  exasperating !  Why 
didn't  you  tell  me  where  you  were  and  what  you  were 
doing  ?  "  She  looked  up  at  him  with  charming  disap- 


94    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

proval.     "  I  feel  like  shaking  you !     I  could  have  made 
good  use  of  you,  Mr.  Green." 

"  I  was  making  pretty  good  use  of  myself,"  Andy  ex- 
plained, and  wished  he  knew  who  gave  him  that  sur- 
reptitious kick  on  the  ankle.  Did  the  chump  want  an 
introduction?  Well!  In  that  case  — 

"  Miss  Hallman,  if  you  don't  mind  I'd  like  to  intro- 
duce some  men  I  rounded  up  and  brought  here,"  he 
began  before  the  Happy  Family  could  move  out  of  the 
danger  zone  of  his  imagination.  "  Representative 
citizens,  you  see.  You  can  sic  your  bunch  onto  'em  and 
get  a  lot  of  information.  This  is  Mr.  Weary  Davidson, 
Miss  Hallman :  He's  a  hayseed  that  lives  out  that  way 
and  he  talks  spuds  better  than  anything  else.  And 
here's  Slim  —  I  don't  know  his  right  name  —  he  raises 
hogs  to  a  fare-you-well.  And  this  is  Percy  Perkins  " 
—  meaning  Pink  — "  and  he's  another  successful  dry- 
farmer.  Goats  is  his  trade.  He's  got  a  lot  of  'em. 
And  Mr.  Jack  Bates,  he  raises  peanuts  —  or  he's  try- 
ing ?em  this  year  —  and  has  contracts  to  supply  the 
local  market.  Mr.  Happy  Jack  is  our  local  under- 
taker. He  wants  to  sell  out  if  he  can,  because  nobody 
ever  dies  in  this  country  and  that  makes  business  slow. 
He's  thinking  some  of  starting  a  duck-ranch.  This 
man  — "  indicating  Big  Medicine  — "  has  got  the  finest- 
looking  crop  of  volunteer  wild  oats  in  the  country.  He 


COMING   OF    THE    COLONY    95 

knows  all  about  'em.  Mr.  Emmett,  here,  can  put  you 
wise  to  cabbage-heads;  that's  his  specialty.  And  Mr. 
Miguel  Eapponi  is  up  here  from  Old  Mexico  looking  for 
a  favorable  location  for  an  extensive  rubber  planta- 
tion. The  natural  advantages  here  are  simply  great 
for  rubber. 

"  I've  gone  to  some  trouble  gathering  this  bunch  to- 
gether for  you,  Miss  Hallman.  I  don't  reckon  you 
knew  there  was  that  many  dry-farmers  in  the  country. 
They've  all  got  ranches  of  their  own,  and  the  prettiest 
folders  you  ever  sent  under  a  four-cent  stamp  can't 
come  up  to  what  these  men  can  tell  you.  Your  bunch 
won't  have  to  listen  to  one  man,  only  —  here's  half  a 
dozen  ready  and  waiting  to  talk." 

Miss  Hallman  was  impressed.  A  few  of  the  closest 
homeseekers  she  beckoned  and  introduced  to  the  perspir- 
ing Happy  Family  —  mostly  feminine  homeseekers, 
of  whom  there  were  a  dozen  or  so.  The  men  whom 
the  hotel  had  sent  down  with  rigs  waited  impatiently, 
and  the  unintroduced  male  colonists  stared  at  the  low 
rim  of  Lonesome  Prairie  and  wondered  if  over  there 
lay  their  future  prosperity. 

When  the  Happy  Family  finally  made  their  escape, 
red-faced  and  muttering  threats,  Andy  Green  had  dis- 
appeared, and  no  one  knew  when  he  went  or  where. 
He  was  not  in  Kusty  Brown's  place  when  the  Happy 


96     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

Family  went  to  that  haven  and  washed  down  their 
wrongs  in  beer.  Pink  made  a  hurried  trip  to  the  livery 
stable  and  reported  that  Andy's  horse  was  gone. 

They  were  wondering  among  themselves  whether  he 
would  have  the  nerve  to  go  home  and  await  their  com- 
ing —  home  at  this  stage  of  the  game  meaning  One  Man 
Coulee,  which  Andy  had  taken  as  a  homestead  and 
desert  claim  and  where  the  Happy  Family  camped  to- 
gether until  such  time  as  their  claim  shacks  were  habit- 
able. Some  thought  that  he  was  hiding  in  town, 
and  advised  a  thorough  search  before  they  took  to  their 
horses.  The  Native  Son  —  he  of  mixed  Irish  and 
Spanish  blood  —  told  them  with  languid  certainty  that 
Andy  was  headed  straight  for  the  camp  because  he 
would  figure  that  in  camp  was  where  they  would  least 
expect  to  find  him. 

The  opinions  of  the  Native  Son  were  usually  worth 
adopting.  In  this  case,  however,  it  brought  them  into 
the  street  at  the  very  moment  when  Florence  Grace 
Hallman  and  two  homeseekers  had  ventured  from  the 
hotel  in  search  of  them.  Slim  and  Jack  Bates  and  Cal 
Emmett  saw  them  in  time  and  shied  across  the  street 
and  into  the  new  barber  shop  where  they  sat  themselves 
down  and  demanded  unnecessary  hair-cuts  and  a 
•shampoo  apiece,  and  spied  upon  their  unfortunate  fel- 
lows through  the  window  while  they  waited;  but  the 


COMING    OF    THE    COLONY     97 

others  met  the  women  fairly  since  it  was  too  late  to 
turn  back  without  making  themselves  ridiculous. 

"  I  was  wondering,"  began  Miss  Hallman  in  her 
brisk,  business  tone,  "  if  some  of  you  gentlemen  could 
not  help  us  out  in  the  matter  of  conveyances.  I  have 
made  arrangements  for  most  of  my  guests,  but  we 
simply  can't  squeeze  another  one  into  the  rigs  I  have 
engaged  —  and  I've  engaged  every  vehicle  in  town  ex- 
cept a  wheelbarrow  I  saw  in  the  back  yard  of  the 
hotel." 

"  How  many  are  left  out  ?  "  asked  Weary,  since  no 
one  else  showed  any  symptoms  of  speech. 

"  Oh,  not  many,  thank  goodness.  Just  us  three, 
here.  You've  met  Miss  Allen,  Mr.  Davidson  —  and 
Miss  Price.  And  so  have  you  other  gentlemen,  because 
I  introduced  you  at  the  depot.  I  went  blandly  ahead 
and  told  everybody  just  which  rig  they  were  to  ride  in, 
and  put  three  in  a  seat,  at  that,  and  in  counting  noses 
I  forgot  to  count  our  own  — " 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  she  managed  to  overlook 
mine,"  sighed  Miss  Allen,  laying  a  dainty,  gloved  finger 
upon  a  nose  that  had  the  tiniest  possible  tilt  to  it.  "  No- 
body ever  overlooked  my  nose  before;  it's  almost  worth 
walking  to  the  tract." 

Irish,  standing  close  beside  Weary  and  looking 
enough  like  him  to  be  a  twin  instead  of  a  mere  cousin, 


98    FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

smiled  down  at  her  with  traitorous  admiration.  Miss 
Allen's  nose  was  a  nice  nose,  and  above  it  twinkled  a 
pair  of  warm  brown  eyes  with  humorous  little  wTrinkles 
around  them ;  and  still  above  them  fluffed  a  kinky-curly 
mass  of  brown  hair.  Weary  looked  at  her  also,  but  he 
did  not  smile,  because  she  looked  a  little  like  his  own 
schoolma'am,  Miss  Ruby  Satterly  —  and  the  resem- 
blance hurt  a  sore  place  in  his  heart. 

" —  So  if  any  of  you  gentlemen  could  possibly  take 
us  out  to  the  tract,  we'd  be  eternally  grateful,  besides 
keeping  our  independence  intact  with  the  usual  pay- 
ment. Could  you  help  us  out  ?  " 

"  We  all  came  in  on  horseback,"  Weary  stated  with  a 
gentle  firmness  that  was  intended  to  kill  their  hopes  as 
painlessly  as  possible. 

"  Wouldn't  there  be  room  on  behind  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Allen  with  hope  still  alive  and  flourishing. 

"  Lots  of  room,"  Weary  assured  her.  "  More  room 
than  you  could  possibly  use." 

"  But  isn't  there  any  kind  of  a  rig  that  you  could 
buy,  beg,  borrow  or  steal  ? "  Miss  Hallman  insisted. 
"  These  girls  came  from  Wisconsin  to  take  up  claims, 
and  I've  promised  to  see  that  they  get  the  best  there  is 
to  be  had.  They  are  hustlers,  if  I  know  what  the  word 
means.  I  have  a  couple  of  claims  in  mind,  that  I  want 
them  to  see  —  and  that's  why  we  three  hung  back  till 


COMING    OF    THE    COLONY    99 

the  rest  were  all  arranged  for.  I  had  a  rig  promised 
that  I  was  depending  on,  and  at  the  last  minute  dis- 
covered it  was  not  to  be  had.  Some  doctor  from  Havre 
came  and  got  it  for  a  trip  into  the  hills.  There's  no 
use  talking;  we  just  must  get  out  to  the  tract  as  soon 
as  the  others  do  —  a  little  sooner  wouldn't  hurt. 
Couldn't  you  think  of  some  way  ?  " 

"  We'll  try,"  Irish  promised  rashly,  his  eyes  trying 
to  meet  Miss  Allen's  and  succeeding  admirably. 

"  What  has  become  of  Mr.  Green  ? "  Miss  Hallman 
demanded  after  she  had  thanked  Irish  with  a  smile  for 
the  qualified  encouragement. 

"  We  don't  know,"  Weary  answered  mildly.  "  We 
were  trying  to  locate  him  ourselves." 

"  Oh,  were  you  ?  He  seems  a  rather  uncertain  young 
man.  I  rather  counted  on  his  assistance;  he  prom- 
ised — " 

"  Mr.  Irish  has  thought  of  a  rig  he  can  use,  Miss 
Hallman,"  said  the  Allen  girl  suddenly.  "He's  go- 
ing to  drive  us  out  himself.  Let's  hurry  and  get  ready, 
so  we  can  start  ahead  of  the  others.  How  many  min- 
utes will  it  take  you,  Mr.  Irish,  to  have  that  team  here 
for  us  ?  " 

Irish  turned  red.  He  had  thought  of  a  rig,  and  he 
had  thought  of  driving  them  himself,  but  he  could  not 
imagine  how  Miss  Allen  could  possibly  have  known  his 


100    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

thoughts.  Then  and  there  he  knew  who  would  occupy 
the  other  half  of  the  front  seat,  in  case  he  did  really 
drive  the  team  he  had  in  mind. 

"  I  told  you  she's  a  hustler/7  laughed  Miss  Hallman. 
"  She'll  be  raising  bigger  crops  than  you  men  —  give 
her  a  year  to  get  started.  Well,  girls,  come  on,  then." 

They  turned  abruptly  away,  and  Irish  was  left  to  his 
accounting  with  the  Happy  Family.  He  had  not  de- 
nied the  thoughts  and  intentions  imputed  to  him  by  the 
twinkling-eyed  Miss  Allen.  They  walked  on  toward 
the  livery  stable  —  where  was  manifested  an  unwonted 
activity  —  waiting  for  Irish  to  clear  himself ;  which  he 
did  not  do. 

"  You  going  to  drive  them  women  out  there  ?  "  Pink 
demanded  after  an  impatient  silence. 

"  Why  not?     Somebody'll  have  to." 

"  What  team  are  you  going  to  use  ? "  asked  Jack 
Bates. 

"  Chip's."  Irish  did  not  glance  around,  but  kept 
striding  down  the  middle  of  the  road  with  his  hands 
stuck  deep  in  his  pockets. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  need  help,  amigo?"  the  Native 
Son  insinuated  craftily.  "  You  can't  talk  to  three 
girls  at  once ;  I  could  be  hired  to  go  along  and  take  one 
off  your  hands.  That  should  help  some." 

"  Like  hell  you  will !  "  Irish  retorted  with  charac- 


COMING   OF    THE    COLONY    101 

teristic  bluntness.  Then  he  added  cautiously,  "  Which 
one?" 

"  That  old  girl  with  the  blue  eyes  should  not  be 
permitted  to  annoy  the  driver/'  drawled  the  Native 
Son.  "  Also,  Florence  Grace  might  want  some  intelli- 
gent person  to  talk  to." 

"  Well,  I  got  my  opinion  of  any  man  that'll  throw  in 
with  that  bunch,"  Pink  declared  hotly.  "Why  don't 
you  fellows  keep  your  own  side  the  fence?  What  if 
they  axe  women  farmers  ?  They  can  do  just  as  much 
harm  —  and  a  darn  sight  more.  You  make  me  sick." 

"  Let  'em  go,"  Weary  advised  calmly.  "  They'll  be 
a  lot  sicker  when  the  ladies  discover  what  they've  helped 
do  to  that  bench-land.  Come  on,  boys  —  let's  pull  out, 
away  from  all  these  lunatics.  I  hate  to  see  them  get 
stung,  but  I  don't  see  what  we  can  do  about  it  —  only, 
if  they  come  around  asking  me  what  I  think  of  that 
land,  I'm  going  to  tell  'em." 

"  And  then  they'll  ask  you  why  you  took  claims  up 
there,  and  you'll  tell  'em  that,  too  —  will  you  ?  "  The 
Native  Son  turned  and  smiled  at  him  ironically. 

That  was  it.  They  could  not  tell  the  truth  without 
harming  their  own  cause.  They  could  not  do  anything 
except  stand  aside  and  see  the  thing  through  to  what- 
ever end  fate  might  decree.  They  thought  that  Irish 
and  the  Native  Son  were  foolish  to  take  Chip's  team 


102    FL'YING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

and  drive  those  women  fifteen  miles  or  so  that  they 
might  seize  upon  land  much  better  left  alone;  but  that 
was  the  business  of  Irish  and  the  Native  Son,  who  did 
not  ask  for  the  approval  of  the  Happy  Family  before 
doing  anything  they  wanted  to  do. 

The  Happy  Family  saddled  and  rode  back  to  their 
claims,  gravely  discussing  the  potentialities  of  the 
future.  Since  they  rode  slowly  while  they  talked,  they 
were  presently  overtaken  by  a  swirl  of  dust,  behind 
which  came  the  matched  browns  which  were  the  Flying 
IPs  crack  driving  team,  bearing  Irish  and  Miss  Allen 
of  the  twinkling  eyes  upon  the  front  seat  of  a  two- 
seated  spring-wagon  that  had  seen  far  better  days  than 
this.  Native  Son  helped  to  crowd  the  back  seat  un- 
comfortably, and  waved  a  hand  with  reprehensible  cheer- 
fulness as  they  went  rattling  past. 

The  Happy  Family  stared  after  them  with  frown- 
ing disapproval,  and  Weary  turned  in  the  saddle  and 
looked  ruefully  at  his  fellows. 

"  Things  won't  ever  be  the  same  around  here/'  he 
predicted  soberly.  "  There  goes  the  beginning  of  the 
end  of  the  Flying  U,  boys  —  and  we  ain't  big  enough  to 
stop  it." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FLOEENCE    GEACE    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    PLAINLY 

ANDY  GREEN  rode  thoughtfully  up  the  trail 
from  his  cabin  in  One  Man  Coulee,  his  hat  tilted 
to  the  south  to  shield  his  face  from  the  climbing  sun, 
his  eyes  fixed  absently  upon  the  yellow  soil  of  the  hill- 
side. Andy  was  facing  a  problem  that  concerned  the 
whole  Happy  Family  —  and  the  Elying  U  as  well. 
He  wanted  Weary's  opinion,  and  Miguel  Rapponi's, 
and  Pink's  —  when  it  came  to  that,  he  wanted  the 
opinion  of  them  all. 

Thus  far  the  boys  had  been  wholly  occupied  with  get- 
ting their  shacks  built  and  in  rustling  cooking  outfits 
and  getting  themselves  settled  upon  their  claims  with 
an  air  of  convincing  permanency.  Also  they  had 
watched  with  keen  interest  —  which  was  something 
more  vital  than  mere  curiosity  —  developments  where 
the  homeseekers  were  concerned,  and  had  not  given 
very  much  thought  to  their  next  step,  except  in  a  purely 
general  way. 

They  all  recognized  the  fact  that,  with  all  these  new 
settlers  buzzing  around  hunting  claims  where  there  was 


104    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

some  promise  of  making  things  grow,  they  would  have 
to  sit  very  tight  indeed  upon  their  own  land  if  they 
would  avoid  trouble  with  "  jumpers."  Not  all  the 
homeseekers  were  women.  There  were  men,  plenty  of 
them ;  a  few  of  them  were  wholly  lacking  in  experience 
it  is  true,  but  perhaps  the  more  greedy  for  land  because 
of  their  ignorance.  The  old  farmers  had  looked  askance 
at  the  high,  dry  prairie  land,  where  even  drinking  water 
must  be  hauled  in  barrels  from  some  deep-set  creek 
whose  shallow  gurgling  would  probably  cease  altogether 
when  the  dry  season  came  on  the  heels  of  June.  The 
old  farmers  had  asked  questions  that  implied  doubt. 
They  had  wanted  to  know  about  sub-soil,  and  average 
rainfall,  and  late  frosts,  and  markets.  The  profusely 
illustrated  folders  that  used  blue  print  for  emphasis 
here  and  there,  seemed  no  longer  to  satisfy  them. 

The  Happy  Family  did  not  worry  much  about  the  old 
farmers  who  knew  the  game,  but  there  were  town  men 
who  had  come  to  see  the  fulfilment  of  their  dreams; 
who  had  burned  their  bridges,  some  of  them,  and  would 
suffer  much  before  they  would  turn  back  to  face  the 
ridicule  of  their  friends  and  the  disheartening  task  of 
getting  a  fresh  foothold  in  the  wage-market.  These 
the  Happy  Family  knew  for  incipient  enemies  once 
the  struggle  for  existence  was  fairly  begun.  And  there 
were  the  women  —  daring  rivals  of  the  men  in  their 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    105 

fight  for  independence  —  who  had  dreamed  dreams  and 
raised  up  ideals  for  which  they  would  fight  tenaciously. 
School-teachers  who  hated  the  routine  of  the  schools, 
and  who  wanted  freedom ;  who  were  willing  to  work  and 
wait  and  forego  the  little,  cheap  luxuries  which  are  so 
dear  to  women;  who  would  cheerfully  endure  loneli- 
ness and  spoiled  complexions  and  roughened  hands  and 
broken  nails,  and  see  the  prairie  winds  and  sun  wipe 
the  sheen  from  their  hair;  who  would  wear  coarse, 
heavy-soled  shoes  and  keep  all  their  pretty  finery  packed 
carefully  away  in  their  trunks  with  dainty  sachet  pads 
for  month  after  month,  and  take  all  their  pleasure  in 
dreaming  of  the  future;  these  would  fight  also  to  have 
and  to  hold  —  and  they  would  fight  harder  than  the 
men,  more  dangerously  than  the  men,  because  they 
would  fight  differently. 

The  Happy  Family,  then,  having  recognized  these 
things  and  having  measured  the  fighting-element,  knew 
that  they  were  squarely  up  against  a  slow,  grim,  re- 
lentless war  if  they  would  save  the  Flying  U.  They 
knew  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  pretty  stiff  proposition, 
and  that  they  would  have  to  obey  strictly  the  letter  and 
the  spirit  of  the  land  laws,  or  there  would  be  contests 
and  quarrels  and  trouble  without  end. 

So  they  hammered  and  sawed  and  fitted  boards  and 
nailed  on  tar-paper  and  swore  and  jangled  and  joshed 


106    FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

one  another  and  counted  nickels  —  where  they  used  to 
disdain  counting  anything  but  results  —  and  badgered 
the  life  out  of  Patsy  because  he  kicked  at  being  expected 
to  cook  for  the  bunch  just  the  same  as  if  he  were  in  the 
Flying  U  mess-house.  Py  cosh,  he  wouldn't  cook  for 
the  whole  country  just  because  they  were  too  lazy  to 
•cook  for  themselves,  and  py  cosh  if  they  wanted  him 
to  cook  for  them  they  could  pay  him  sixty  dollars  a 
month,  as  the  Old  Man  did. 

The  Happy  Family  were  no  millionaires,  and  they 
made  the  fact  plain  to  Patsy  to  the  full  extent  of  their 
vocabularies.  But  still  they  begged  bread  from  him,  a 
loaf  at  a  time,  and  couldn't  see  why  he  objected  to  mak- 
ing pie,  if  they  furnished  the  stuff.  Why,  for  gosh 
sake,  had  they  planted  him  in  the  very  middle  of  their 
string  of  claims,  then  ?  With  a  dandy  spring  too,  that 
never  went  dry  except  in  the  driest  years,  and  not  more 
than  seventy-five  yards,  at  the  outside,  to  carry  water. 
Up  hill  ?  Well,  what  of  that  ?  Look  at  Pink  —  had  to 
haul  water  half  a  mile  from  One  Man  Creek,  and  no 
trail.  Look  at  Weary  —  had  to  pack  water  twice  as 
far  as  Patsy.  And  hadn't  they  clubbed  together  and 
put  up  his  darned  shack  first  thing,  just  so  he  could 
get  busy  and  cook?  What  did  the  old  devil  expect, 
anyway  ? 

Well  —  you  see  that  the  Happy  Family  had  been 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    107 

fully  occupied  in  the  week  since  the  arrival  of  the 
homeseekers'  excursion.  They  could  not  be  expected 
to  give  very  much  thought  to  their  next  steps.  But 
there  was  Andy,  who  had  only  to  move  into  the  cabin  in 
One  Man  Coulee,  with  a  spring  handy,  and  a  stable  for 
his  horse,  and  a  corral  and  everything.  Andy  had  not 
been  harassed  with  the  house-building  and  settling, 
except  as  he  assisted  the  others.  As  fast  as  the  shacks 
were  up,  the  Happy  Family  had  taken  possession,  so 
that  now  Andy  was  alone,  stuck  down  there  in  the  coulee 
out  of  sight  of  everybody.  Pink  had  once  named  One 
Man  Coulee  as  the  lonesomest  hole  in  all  that  country, 
and  he  had  not  been  far  wrong.  But  at  any  rate  the 
lonesomeness  had  served  one  good  purpose,  for  it  had 
started  Andy  to  thinking  out  the  details  of  their  so- 
called  land-pool.  "Now  the  thinking  had  borne  fruit 
to  the  extent  that  he  felt  an  urgent  need  of  the  Happy 
Family  in  council  upon  the  subject. 

As  he  topped  at  last  the  final  rise  which  put  him  on 
a  level  with  the  great  undulating  bench-land  gashed 
here  and  there  with  coulees  and  narrow  gulches  that 
gave  no  evidence  of  their  existence  until  one  rode  quite 
close,  he  lifted  his  head  and  gazed  about  him  half  re- 
gretfully, half  proudly.  He  hated  to  see  that  wide  up- 
land dotted  here  and  there  with  new,  raw  buildings, 
which  proclaimed  themselves  claim-shacks  as  far  as  one 


108    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

could  see  them.  Andy  hated  the  sight  of  claim-shacks 
with  a  hatred  born  of  long  range  experience  and  the 
vital  interests  of  the  cattleman.  A  claim-shack  stuck 
out  on  the  prairie  meant  a  barbed  wire  fence  somewhere 
in  the  immediate  vicinity ;  and  that  meant  a  hindrance 
to  the  easy  handling  of  herds.  A  claim-shack  meant  a 
nester,  and  a  nester  was  a  nuisance,  with  his  plowed 
fields  and  his  few  head  of  cattle  that  must  be  painstak- 
ingly weeded  out  of  a  herd  to  prevent  a  howl  going  up 
to  high  heaven.  Therefore,  Andy  Green  instinctively 
hated  the  sight  of  a  shack  on  the  prairie.  On  the  other 
hand,  those  shacks  belonged  to  the  Happy  Family — 
and  that  pleased  him.  From  where  he  sat  on  his  horse 
he  could  count  five  in  sight,  and  there  were  more  hidden 
by  ridges  and  tucked  away  in  hollows. 

But  there  were  others  going  up  —  shacks  whose  own- 
ers he  did  not  know.  He  scowled  when  he  saw,  on 
distant  hilltops,  the  yellow  skeletons  that  would  pres- 
ently be  fattened  with  boards  and  paper  and  made  the 
dwellingplace  of  interlopers.  To  be  sure,  they  had  as 
much  right  to  take  government  land  as  had  he  or  any 
of  his  friends  —  but  Andy,  being  a  normally  selfish 
person,  did  not  think  so. 

From  one  partially  built  shack  three  quarters  of  a 
mile  away  on  a  bald  ridge  which  the  Happy  Family 
had  passed  up  because  of  its  barrenness  and  the  barren- 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    109 

ness  of  the  coulee  on  the  other  side,  and  because  no  one 
was  willing  to  waste  even  a  desert  right  on  that  par- 
ticular eighty-acres,  a  team  and  light  buggy  came  swiftly 
toward  him.  Andy,  trained  to  quick  thinking,  was 
puzzled  at  the  direction  the  driver  was  taking.  That 
eighty  acres  joined  his  own  west  line,  and  unless  the 
driver  was  lost  or  on  the  way  to  One  Man  Coulee,  there 
was  no  reason  whatever  for  coming  this  way. 

He  watched  and  saw  that  the  team  was  coming 
straight  toward  him  over  the  uneven  prairie  sod,  and  at 
a  pace  that  threatened  damage  to  the  buggy-springs. 
Instinctively  Andy  braced  himself  in  the  saddle.  At 
a  half  mile  he  knew  the  team,  and  it  did  not  require 
much  shrewdness  to  guess  at  the  errand.  He  twitched 
the  reins,  turned  his  spurred  heels  against  his  horse 
and  went  loping  over  the  grassland  to  meet  the  person 
who  drove  in  such  haste;  and  the  probability  that  he 
was  meeting  trouble  halfway  only  sent  him  the  more 
eagerly  forward. 

Trouble  met  him  with  hard,  brown  eyes  and  corn- 
yellow  hair  blown  in  loose  strands  across  cheeks  rough- 
ened by  the  spring  winds  and  sun-glare  of  Montana. 
Trouble  pulled  up  and  twisted  sidewise  in  the  seat  and 
flicked  the  heads  off  some  wild  larkspurs  with  her  whip 
while  her  tongue  flayed  the  soul  of  Andy  Green  with 
sarcasm. 


110    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Well,  I  have  found  out  just  how  you  helped  me 
colonize  this  tract,  Mr.  Green,"  she  began  with  a  hard 
inflection  under  the  smoothness  of  her  voice.  "  I  must 
compliment  you  upon  your  promptness  and  thorough- 
ness in  the  matter;  for  an  amateur  you  have  made  a 
remarkable  showing  —  in  —  in  treachery  and  deceit. 
I  really  did  not  suppose  you  had  it  in  you." 

"  Remember,  I  told  you  I  might  buy  in  if  it  looked 
good  to  me,"  Andy  reminded  her  in  the  mildest  tone  of 
which  he  was  capable  —  and  he  could  be  as  mild  as  new 
milk  when  he  chose. 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  looked  at  him  with  a  lift  of 
her  full  upper  lip  at  the  left  side.  "  It  does  look  good, 
then?  You  told  Mr.  Graham  and  that  Mr.  Wirt  a 
different  story,  Mr.  Green.  You  told  them  this  land 
won't  raise  white  beans,  and  you  were  at  some  pains,  I 
believe,  to  explain  why  it  would  not.  You  convinced 
them,  by  some  means  or  other,  that  the  whole  tract  is 
practically  worthless  for  agricultural  purposes.  Both 
Mr.  Wirt  and  Mr.  Graham  had  some  capital  to  invest 
here,  and  now  they  are  leaving,  and  they  have  persuaded 
several  others  to  leave  with  them.  Does  it  really  look 
good  to  you  —  this  land  proposition  ?  " 

"  Not  your  proposition  —  no,  it  don't."  Andy  faced 
her  with  a  keen  level  glance  as  hard  as  her  own.  One 
could  get  the  truth  straight  from  the  shoulder  if  one 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    111 

pushed  Andy  Green  into  a  corner.  "  You  know  and 
I  know  that  you're  trying  to  cold-deck  this  bunch.  The 
land  won't  raise  white  beans  or  anything  else  without 
water,  and  you  know  it.  You  can  plant  folks  on  the 
land  and  collect  your  money  and  tell  ?em  goodbye  and 
go  to  it  —  and  that  settles  your  part  of  it.  But  how 
about  the  poor  devils  that  put  in  their  time  and 
money  ?  " 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  spread  her  hands  in  a 
limited  gesture  because  of  the  reins,  and  smiled  un- 
pleasantly. "  And  yet,  you  nearly  broke  your  neck 
filing  on  the  land,  yourself  and  getting  a  lot  of  your 
friends  to  file,"  she  retorted.  "  What  was  your  ob- 
ject, Mr.  Green  —  since  the  land  is  worthless?  " 

"  My  object  don't  matter  to  anyone  but  myself." 
Andy  busied  himself  with  his  smoking  material  and  did 
not  look  at  her. 

"  Oh,  but  it  does !  It  matters  to  me,  Mr.  Green,  and 
to  my  company,  and  to  our  clients." 

"  I'll  have  to  buy  me  a  new  dictionary,"  Andy  ob- 
served casually,  reaching  behind  him  to  scratch  a  match 
on  the  skirt  of  his  saddle.  "  The  one  I've  got  don't 
say  anything  about  e  client '  and  '  victim '  meaning  the 
same  thing.  It's  getting  all  outa  date." 

"  I  brought  enough  clients  — "  she  emphasized  the 
word — "  to  settle  every  eighty  acres  of  land  in  that 


112     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

whole  tract.  The  policy  of  the  company  was  emi- 
nently fair.  We  guaranteed  to  furnish  a  claim  of  eighty 
acres  to  every  person  who  joined  our  Homeseekers'  Club, 
and  free  pasturage  to  all  the  stock  they  wanted  to  bring. 
Failing  to  do  that,  we  pledged  ourselves  to  refund  the 
fee  and  pay  all  return  expenses.  We  could  have  lo- 
cated every  member  of  this  lot,  and  more  —  only  for 
you" 

"  Say,  it'd  be  just  as  easy  to  swear  as  to  say  '  you '  in 
that  tone  uh  voice,"  Andy  pointed  out  placidly. 

"  You  managed  to  gobble  up  just  exactly  four  thou- 
sand acres  of  this  tract  —  and  you  were  careful  to  get 
all  the  water  and  all  the  best  land.  That  means  you 
have  knocked  us  out  of  fifty  settlements  — " 

"  Fifty  wads  of  coin  to  hand  back  to  fifty  come-ons, 
and  fifty  return  tickets  for  fifty  fellows  glad  to  get  back 
—  tough  luck,  ain't  it  ?  "  Andy  smiled  sympathetic- 
ally. "  You  oughta  be  glad  I  saved  your  conscience 
that  much  of  a  load,  anyway." 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  bit  her  lip  to  control  her 
rage.  "  Smart  talk  isn't  going  to  help  you,  Mr.  Green. 
You've  simply  placed  yourself  in  a  position  you  can't 
hold.  You've  put  it  up  to  us  to  fight  —  and  we're 
going  to  do  it.  I'm  playing  fair  with  you.  I'll  tell 
you  this  much :  I've  investigated  you  and  your  friends 
pretty  thoroughly,  and  it's  easy  to  guess  what  your 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    113 

object  is.  We  rather  expected  the  Flying  U  to  fight 
this  colonization  scheme,  so  we  are  neither  surprised  nor 
unprepared.  Mr.  Green,  for  your  own  interest  and 
that  of  your  employer,  let  me  advise  you  to  abandon 
your  claims  now,  before  we  begin  action  in  the  matter. 
It  will  be  simpler,  and  far,  far  cheaper.  We  have  our 
clients  to  look  after,  and  we  have  the  law  all  on  our 
side.  These  are  bona  fide  settlers  we  are  bringing  in; 
nren  and  women  whose  sole  object  is  to  make  homes  for 
themselves.  The  land  laws  are  pretty  strict,  Mr.  Green. 
If  we  set  the  wheels  in  motion  they  will  break  the  Fly- 
ing  U." 

Andy  grinned  while  he  inspected  his  cigarette. 
"  Funny  —  I  heard  a  man  brag  once  about  how  he'd 
break  the  Flying  U,  with  sheep,"  he  drawled.  "  He 
didn't  connect,  though;  the  Flying  U  broke  him."  He 
smoked  until  he  saw  an  angry  retort  parting  the  red 
lips  of  the  lady,  and  then  continued  calmly : 

"  The  Flying  U  has  got  nothing  to  do  with  this  case. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  old  man  Whitmore  is  pretty  sore  at 
us  fellows  right  now,  because  we  quit  him  and  turned 
nesters  right  under  his  nose.  Miss  Hallman,  you'll 
have  one  sweet  time  proving  that  we  ain't  bona  fide 
settlers.  We're  just  crazy  to  make  homes  for  ourselves. 
We  think  it's  time  we  settled  down  —  and  we're  settling 
here  because  we're  used  to  this  country.  We're  real 


114    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

sorry  we  didn't  find  it  necessary  to  pay  your  folks  for 
the  fun  of  pointing  out  the  land  to  us  and  steering  us 
to  the  land  office  —  but  we  can't  help  that.  We  needed 
the  money  to  buy  plows."  He  looked  at  her  full  with 
his  honest,  gray  eyes  that  could  so  deceive  his  fellow 
men  —  to  say  nothing  of  women.  "  And  that  reminds 
me,  I've  got  to  go  and  borrow  a  garden  rake.  I'm  plant- 
ing a  patch  of  onions,"  he  explained  engagingly.  "  Say, 
this  farming  is  a  great  game,  isn't  it  ?  Well,  good  day, 
Miss  Hallman.  Glad  I  happened  to  meet  you." 

"  You  won't  be  when  I  get  through  with  you !  " 
predicted  the  lady  with  her  firm  chin  thrust  a  little  for- 
ward. "  You  think  you've  got  everything  your  own 
way,  don't  you?  Well,  you've  just  simply  put  your- 
self in  a  position  where  we  can  get  at  you.  You  de- 
ceived me  from  the  very  start  —  and  now  you  shall  pay 
the  penalty.  I've  got  our  clients  to  protect  —  and  be- 
sides that  I  shall  dearly  love  to  get  even.  Oh,  you'll 
squeal  for  mercy,  believe  me !  "  She  touched  up  the 
horses  with  her  whip  and  went  bumping  away  over  the 
tough  sod. 

"Wow!"  ejaculated  Andy,  looking  after  her  with 
laughter  in  his  eyes.  "  She's  sure  one  mad  lady,  all 
right.  But  shucks ! "  He  turned  and  galloped  off 
toward  the  farthest  claim,  which  was  Happy  Jack's  and 
the  last  one  to  be  furnished  with  a  lawful  habitation. 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    115 

He  was  lucky.  The  Happy  Family  were  foregath- 
ered there,  wrangling  with  Happy  Jack  over  some  tri- 
fling thing.  He  joined  zealously  in  the  argument  and 
helped  them  thrash  Happy  Jack  in  the  word-war,  before 
he  came  at  his  errand. 

"  Say,  boys,  we'll  have  to  get  busy  now/'  he  told 
them  seriously  at  last.  "  Florence  Grace  is  onto  us 
bigger 'n  a  wolf  —  and  if  I'm  any  judge,  that  lady's 
going  to  be  some  fighter.  We've  either  got  to  plow  up 
a  bunch  of  ground  and  plant  some  darn  thing,  or  else 
get  stock  on  and  pasture  it.  They  ain't  going  to  over- 
look any  bets  from  now  on.  I  met  her  back  here  on  the 
bench.  She  was  so  mad  she  talked  too  much  and  I  got 
next  to  their  scheme ;  —  seems  like  we've  knocked  the 
Syndicate  outa  quite  a  bunch  of  money,  all  right. 
They  want  this  land,  and  they  think  they're  going  to 
get  it. 

"  Now  my  idea  is  this :  We've  got  to  have  stock,  or 
we  can't  graze  the  land.  And  if  we  take  Flying  U 
cattle  and  throw  'em  on  here,  they'll  contest  us  for  tak- 
ing fake  claims,  for  the  outfit.  So  what's  the  matter 
with  us  buying  a  bunch  from  the  Old  Man  ?  " 

"  I'm  broke,"  began  Pink  promptly,  but  Andy  stopped 
him. 

"  Listen  here.  We  buy  a  bunch  of  stock  and  give 
him  mortgages  for  the  money,  with  the  cattle  for  secur- 


116    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

ity.  We  graze  'em  till  the  mortgage  runs  out  —  till  we 
prove  up,  that  means  —  and  then  we  don't  spot  up,  and 
the  Old  Man  takes  the  stock  back.  See  ?  We're  graz- 
ing our  own  stock,  according  to  law  —  but  the  outfit  — 

"  Where  do  we  git  off  at  ? "  demanded  Happy  Jack 
suspiciously.  "  We  got  to  live  —  and  it  takes  money  to 
buy  grub,  these  days." 

"  Well,  we'll  make  out  all  right.  We  can  have  so 
many  head  of  cattle  named  for  the  mortgage;  there'll 
be  increase,  and  we  should  get  that.  By  the  time  we  all 
prove  up  we'll  have  a  little  bunch  of  stock  of  our  own, 
d'yuh  see  ?  And  we'll  have  the  range  —  what  there  is 
left.  These  squatters  ain't  going  to  last  over  winter, 
if  you  ask  me.  And  it'll  be  a  long,  cold  day  when  an- 
other bunch  of  greenhorns  bites  on  any  colony  scheme." 

"  How  do  you  know  the  Old  Man'll  do  that,  though  ?  " 
Weary  wanted  to  know.  "  He's  pretty  mad.  I  rode 
over  to  the  ranch  last  week  to  see  Chip,  and  the  Old 
Man  wouldn't  have  anything  to  say  to  me." 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  all  of  us  going  ?  He 
can't  pass  up  the  whole  bunch.  We  can  put  it  up  to  him 
just  the  way  it  is,  and  he'll  see  where  it's  going  to  be 
to  his  interest  to  let  us  have  the  cattle.  Why,  darn  it, 
he  can't  help  seeing  now  why  we  quit !  "  Pink  looked 
ready  to  start  then,  while  his  enthusiasm  was  fresh. 

"  Neither  can  Florence  Grace  help  seeing  why  we  did 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    117 

it,"  Andy  supplemented  drily.  "  She  can  think  what 
she  darn  pleases  —  all  we  got  to  do  is  deliver  the  goods 
right  up  to  the  handle,  on  these  claims,  and  not  let  her 
prove  anything  on  us." 

"  It'll  take  a  lot  uh  fencing,"  Happy  Jack  croaked 
pessimistically.  "  We  ain't  got  the  money  to  buy  wire 
and  posts,  ner  the  time  to  build  the  fence." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  range-herding  'em  ? " 
Andy  seemed  to  have  thought  it  all  out,  and  to  have  an 
answer  for  every  objection.  "  We  can  take  turns  at 
that  —  and  we  must  all  be  careful  and  don't  let  'em 
graze  on  our  neighbors !  " 

Whereat  the  Happy  Eamily  grinned  understandingly. 

"  Maybe  the  Old  Man' 11  let  us  have  three  or  four  hun- 
dred head  uh  cows  on  shares,"  Cal  hazarded  optimistic- 
ally. 

"  Can't  take  'em  that  way,"  said  the  Native  Son 
languidly.  "It  wouldn't  be  safe.  Andy's  right;  the 
way  to  do  is  buy  the  cattle  outright,  and  give  a  mortgage 
on  the  bunch.  And  I  think  we  better  split  the  bunch, 
and  let  every  fellow  buy  a  few  head.  We  can  graze  'em 
together  —  the  law  can't  stop  us  from  doing  that." 

"  Sounds  good  —  if  the  Old  Man  will  come  to  the 
centre,"  said  Weary  dubiously.  The  chill  atmosphere 
of  Flying  U  Coulee,  with  strangers  in  the  bunk-house 
and  with  the  Old  Man  scowling  at  his  paper  on  the 


118    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

porch,  had  left  its  effect  upon  Weary,  sunny-souled  as 
he  was. 

"  Oh,  he'll  come  through,"  cried  Cal,  moving  toward 
his  horse.  "  Gee  whiz,  he's  got  to !  Come  on  —  let's 
go  and  get  it  done  with.  As  it  stands  now,  we  ain't 
got  a  thing  to  do  but  set  around  and  look  wise  —  un- 
less we  go  spoiling  good  grass  with  plows.  First  thing 
we  know,  our  neighbors  will  be  saying  we  ain't  improv- 
ing our  claims !  " 

"  You  improve  yours  every  time  you  git  off  it !  " 
stated  Happy  Jack  spitefully  because  of  past  wrongs. 
"  You  could  improve  mine  a  whole  lot  that  way,  too,"  he 
added  when  he  heard  the  laugh  of  approval  from  the 
others. 

They  rung  all  the  changes  possible  upon  that  wit- 
ticism while  they  mounted  and  rode  away,  every  man 
of  them  secretly  glad  of  some  excuse  for  making  over- 
tures to  the  Old  Man.  Spite  of  the  excitement  of  get- 
ting on  to  their  claims,  and  of  watching  strangers  driv- 
ing here  and  there  in  haste,  and  hauling  loads  of  lumber 
toilfully  over  the  untracked  grass  and  building  chicken- 
coop  dwellings  as  nearly  alike  as  the  buttons  on  a  new 
shirt  —  spite  of  all  that  they  had  felt  keenly  their  exile 
from  Flying  U  ranch.  They  had  stayed  away,  for 
two  reasons :  one  was  a  latent  stubbornness  which  made 
them  resent  the  Old  Man's  resentment ;  the  other  was  a 


MISS    HALLMAN    SPEAKS    119 

matter  of  policy,  as  preached  by  Andy  Green  and  the 
Native  Son.  It  would  not  do,  said  these  two  cautious 
ones,  to  be  running  to  the  Flying  U  outfit  all  the  time. 

So  the  Happy  Family  had  steered  clear  since  that 
afternoon  when  they  had  simulated  treachery  to  the 
outfit.  And  fate  played  them  a  scurvy  trick  in  spite 
of  their  caution,  for  just  as  they  rode  down  the  Hog's 
Back  and  across  the  ford,  Florence  Grace  Hallman  rode 
away  from  the  White  House  and  met  them  fairly  at 
the  stable. 

Florence  Grace  smiled  a  peculiar  smile  as  she  went 
past  them.  A  smile  that  promised  she  would  not  for- 
get ;  a  smile  that  told  them  how  sure  she  felt  of  having 
caught  them  fairly.  With  the  smile  went  a  chilly, 
supercilious  bow  that  was  worse  than  a  direct  cut,  and 
which  the  Happy  Family  returned  doubtfully,  not  at 
all  sure  of  the  rules  governing  warfare  with  a  woman. 

Warfare  it  would  be ;  of  that  they  had  no  doubts  what- 
ever. 


CHAPTER  IXi 

THE    HAPPY    FAMILY    BUYS    A   BUNCH    OP    CATTLE 

WITH  the  Kid  riding  gleefully  upon  Weary's 
shoulder  they  trooped  up  the  path  their  own 
feet  had  helped  wear  deep  to  the  bunk-house.  They 
looked  in  at  the  open  door  and  snorted  at  the  cheer- 
lessness  of  the  place. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  back  here  and  stay  ?  "  the  Kid 
demanded.  "  I  was  going  to  sleep  down  here  with 
you  —  and  now  Doctor  Dell  won't  let  me.  These 
hoboes  are  no  good.  They're  damn'  bone-heads. 
Daddy  Chip  says  so.  I  wish  you'd  come  back,  so  I  can 
sleep  with  you.  One  man's  named  Ole  and  he's  got 
a  funny  eye  that  looks  at  the  other  one  all  the  time. 
I  wish  you'd  come  back." 

The  Happy  Family  wished  the  same  thing,  but  they 
did  not  say  so.  Instead  they  told  the  Kid  to  ask  his 
mother  if  he  couldn't  come  and  visit  them  in  their  new 
shacks,  and  promised  indulgencies  that  would  have 
shocked  the  Little  Doctor  had  she  heard  them.  So 


BUYS    BUNCH   OF    CATTLE    121 

they  went  on  to  the  house,  where  the  Old  Man  sat  on 
the  porch  looking  madder  than  when  they  had  left  him 
three  weeks  before. 

"  Why  don't  yuh  run  them  nesters  outa  the  country  ?  " 
he  demanded  peevishly  when  they  were  close  enough 
for  speech.  "  Here  they  cbme  and  accuse  me  to  my 
face  of  trying  to  defraud  the  gov'ment.  Doggone  you 
boys,  what  you  think  you're  up  to,  anyway?  What's 
three  or  four  thousand  acres  when  they're  swarming 
in  here  like  flies  to  a  butcherin'  ?  They  can't  make  a 
living  —  serve  'em  right.  What  you  doggone  rowdies 
want  now  ?  " 

2sk)t  a  cordial  welcome,  that  —  if  they  went  no  deeper 
than  his  words.  But  there  was  the  old  twinkle  back 
of  the  querulousness  in  the  Old  Man's  eyes,  and  the 
old  pucker  of  the  lips  behind  his  grizzled  whiskers. 
"  You've  got  that  doggone  Kid  broke  to  f  oiler  yuh  so 
we  can't  keep  him  on  the  ranch  no  more,"  he  added 
fretfully.  "  Tried  to  run  away  twice,  on  Silver. 
Chip  had  to  go  round  him  up.  Found  him  last  time 
pretty  near  over  to  Antelope  Coulee,  hittin'  the  high 
places  for  town.  Might  as  well  take  yuh  back,  I  guess, 
and  save  time  running  after  the  Kid." 

"  We've  got  to  hold  down  our  claims,"  Weary  re- 
minded him  regretfully.  In  three  weeks,  he  could  see 
a  difference  in  the  Old  Man,  and  the  change  hurt  him. 


122     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

Lines  were  deeper  drawn,  and  the  kind  old  eyes  were 
a  shade  more  sunken. 

"  What's  that  amount  to  ?  "  grumbled  the  Old  Man, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other  under  his  graying  eye- 
brows. "  You  can't  stop  them  dry-farmers  from  taking 
the  country.  Yuh  might  as  well  try  to  dip  the  Mis- 
souri dry  with  a  bucket.  They'll  flood  the  country 
with  stock — " 

"  No,  they  won't/'  put  in  Big  Medicine,  impatient 
for  the  real  meat  of  their  errand.  "  By  cripes,  we  got 
a  scheme  to  beat  that  —  you  tell  ?im,  Weary." 

"  We  want  to  buy  a  bunch  of  cattle  from  you," 
Weary  said  obediently.  "  We  want  to  graze  our 
claims,  instead  of  trying  to  crop  the  land.  We  haven't 
any  fence  up,  so  we'll  have  to  range-herd  our  stock, 
of  course.  I  —  don't  hardly  think  any  nester  stock 
will  get  by  us,  J.  GL  And  seeing  our  land  runs  straight 
through  from  Meeker's  line  fence  to  yours,  we  kinda 
think  we've  got  the  nesters  pretty  well  corralled. 
They're  welcome  to  the  range  between  Antelope  Coulee 
and  Dry  Lake,  far  as  we're  concerned.  Soon  as  we 
can  afford  it,"  he  added  tranquilly,  "  we'll  stretch  a 
fence  along  our  west  line  that'll  hold  all  the  darn  milk- 
cows  they've  a  mind  to  ship  out  here." 

"  Huh !  "  The  Old  Man  studied  them  quizzically, 
•his  chin  on  his  chest. 


BUYS    BUNCH    OF    CATTLE     123 

"  How  many  yuh  want  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  All  you'll  sell  us.  We  want  to  give  mortgages, 
with  the  stock  for  security." 

"  Oh,  yuh  do,  ay  ?  What  if  I  have  to  foreclose  on 
yuh  ?  "  The  pucker  of  his  lips  grew  more  pronounced. 
"  Where  do  you  git  off  at,  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  kinda  thought  we  could  fix  it  up  to  save 
part  of  the  increase  outa  the  wreck,  anyway." 

"  Oh.  That's  it  ay  2  "  He  studied  them  another 
minute.  "  You'll  want  all  my  best  cows,  too,  I  reckon 
—  all  that  grade  stock  I  shipped  in  last  spring.  Ay  ?  " 

"  We  wouldn't  mind,"  grinned  Weary,  glancing  at 
the  others  roosting  at  ease  along  the  edge  of  the  porch. 

"  Think  you  could  handle  five-hundred  head  —  the 
pick  uh  the  bunch  ?  " 

"  Sure,  we  could !  We'd  rather  split  'em  up  amongst 
us,  though  —  let  every  fellow  buy  so  many.  We  can 
throw  in  together  on  the  herding." 

"  Think  you  can  keep  the  milk-cows  between  you 
and  Dry  Lake,  ay  ?  "  The  Old  Man  chuckled  —  the 
first  little  chuckle  since  the  Happy  Family  left  him  so 
unceremoniously  three  weeks  before.  "  How  about  that, 
Pink?"' 

"  Why,  I  think  we  can,"  chirped  Pink  cheerfully. 

"  Huh !  Well,  you're  the  toughest  bunch,  take  yuh 
up  one  side  and  down  the  other,  I  ever  seen  keep  outa 


124    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

jail  —  I  guess  maybe  you  can  do  it.  But  lemme  tell 
you  boys  something  —  and  I  want  you  to  remember  it : 
,You  don't  want  to  git  the  idea  in  your  heads  you're 
going  to  have  any  snap ;  you  ain't.  If  I  know  B  from 
a  bull's  foot,  you've  got  your  work  cut  out  for  yuh. 
I've  been  keeping  cases  pretty  close  on  this  dry-farm 
craze,  and  this  stampede  for  claims.  Eolks  are  land 
crazy.  They've  got  the  idea  that  a  few  acres  of  land 
is  going  to  make  ?em  free  and  independent  —  and  it 
don't  matter  much  what  the  land  is,  or  where  it  is. 
So  long  as  it's  land,  and  they  can  git  it  from  the  govern- 
ment for  next  to  nothing,  they're  satisfied.  And  yuh 
want  to  remember  that.  Yuh  don't  want  to  take  it 
for  granted  they're  going  to  take  a  look  at  your  dead- 
line and  back  up.  If  they  ship  in  stock,  they're  going 
to  see  to  it  that  stock  don't  starve.  You'll  have  to 
hold  off  men  and  women  that's  making  their  last  stand, 
some  of  'em,  for  a  home  of  their  own.  They  ain't 
going  to  give  up  if  they  can  help  it.  You  get  a  man 
with  his  back  agin  the  wall,  and  he'll  fight  till  he  drops. 
I  don't  need  to  tell  yuh  that." 

The  Happy  Family  listened  to  him  soberly,  their 
eyes  staring  broodily  at  the  picture  he  conjured. 

"Well,  by  golly,  we're  makin'  our  last  stand,  too," 
Slim  blurted  with  his  customary  unexpectedness. 
"  Our  back's  agin  the  wall  right  now.  If  we  can't 


BUYS    BUNCH    OF    CATTLE     125 

hold  'em  back  from  takin'  what  little  range  is  left,  this 
outfit's  going  under.  We  got  to  hold  'em,  by  golly, 
er  there  won't  be  no  more  Fly  in'  U." 

"Well,"  said  Andy  Green  quietly,  "that's  all 
right.  We're  going  to  hold  'em." 

The  Old  Man  lifted  his  bent  head  and  looked  from 
one  to  another.  Pride  shone  in  his  eyes,  that  had 
lately  stared  resentment.  "  Yuh  know,  don't  yuh,  the 
biggest  club  they  can  use  ? "  He  leaned  forward  a 
little,  his  lips  working  under  his  beard. 

"  Sure,  we  know.  We'll  look  out  for  that."  Weary 
smiled  hearteningly. 

"  We  want  a  good  lawyer  to  draw  up  those  mort- 
gages," put  in  the  Native  Son  lazily.  "  And  we'll  pay 
eight  per  cent,  interest." 

"  Doggonedest  crazy  bunch  ever  I  struck,"  grumbled 
the  Old  Man  with  grateful  insincerity.  "  What  you 
fellers  don't  think  of,  there  ain't  any  use  in  mention- 
ing. Oh,  Dell!  Bring  out  that  jug  Blake  sent  me! 
Doggoned  thirsty  bunch  out  here  —  won't  stir  a  foot 
till  they  sample  that  wine!  Got  to  get  rid  of  'em 
somehow  —  they  claim  to  be  full  uh  business  as  a 
jack  rabbit  is  of  fleas !  When  yuh  want  to  git  out  and 
round  up  them  cows?  Wagon's  over  on  Dry  Creek 
som'ers  —  or  ought  to  be.  Yuh  might  take  your  soogans 
and  ride  over  there  tomorrow  or  next  day  and  ketch 


126    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

'em.  I'll  write  a  note  to  Chip  and  tell  'im  what's  to 
be  done.  And  while  you're  pickin'  your  bunch,  yuh 
can  draw  wages  just  the  same  as  ever,  and  help  them 
double-dutch  blisterin'  milk-fed  pilgrims  with  the  calf- 
crop." 

"  We'll  sure  do  that,"  promised  Weary  for  the  bunch. 
"  We  can  start  in  the  morning,  all  right." 

"  Take  a  taste  uh  this  wine.  None  of  your  tobacco- 
juice  stuff;  this  conies  straight  from  Fresno.  Senator 
Blake  sent  it  the  other  day.  Fill  up  that  glass,  Dell! 
What  yuh  want  to  be  so  doggone  stingy  fer?  Think 
this  bunch  uh  freaks  are  going  to  stand  for  that? 
They  can't  git  the  taste  outa  less'n  a  pint.  This  ain't 
any  doggone  liver-tonic  like  you  dope  out." 

The  Little  Doctor  smiled  understandingly  and  filled 
their  glasses  with  the  precious  wine  from  sunland. 
She  did  not  know  what  had  happened,  but  she  did  know 
that  the  Old  Man  had  seized  another  hand-hold  on  life 
in  the  last  hour,  and  she  was  grateful.  She  even  per- 
mitted the  Kid  to  take  a  tiny  sip,  just  because  the 
Happy  Family  hated  to  see  him  refused  anything  he 
wanted. 

So  Flying  U  Coulee  was  for  the  time  being  filled 
with  the  same  old  laughter  and  the  same  atmosphere 
of  care-free  contentment  with  life.  The  Countess 
stewed  uncomplainingly  in  the  kitchen,  cooking  dinner 


BUYS    BUNCH    OF    CATTLE     127 

for  the  boys.  The  Old  Man  grumbled  hypocritically 
at  them  from  his  big  chair,  and  named  their  faults  in 
the  tone  that  transmuted  them  into  virtues.  The  Lit- 
tle Doctor  heard  about  Miss  Allen  and  her  three  part- 
ners, who  were  building  a  four-room  shack  on  the  four 
corners  of  four  claims,  and  how  Irish  had  been  caught 
more  than  once  in  the  act  of  staring  fixedly  in  the 
direction  of  that  shack.  She  heard  a  good  many  things, 
and  she  guessed  a  good  many  more. 

By  mid  afternoon  the  Old  Man  was  fifty  per  cent, 
brighter  and  better  than  he  had  been  in  the  morning, 
and  he  laughed  and  bullied  them  as  of  old.  When 
they  left  he  told  them  to  clear  out  and  stay  out,  and 
that  if  he  caught  them  hanging  around  his  ranch,  and 
making  it  look  as  if  he  were  backing  them  and  try- 
ing to  defraud  the  government,  he'd  sic  the  dog  onto 
them.  Which  tickled  the  Kid  immensely,  because  there 
wasn't  any  dog  to  sic. 


CHAPTER  X 

WHEKEIIT    AOTY    GREEN:   LIES    TO    A    LADY 

IN  the  soft-creeping  dusk  came  Andy  Green,  slouched 
in  the  saddle  with  the  weariness  of  riding  since 
dawn;  slouched  to  one  side  and  singing,  with  his  hat 
far  back  on  his  head  and  the  last  of  a  red  sunset  tint- 
ing darkly  the  hills  above  him.  Tip-toe  on  a  pinnacle 
a  great,  yellow  star  poised  and  winked  at  him  know- 
ingly. Andy's  eyes  twinkled  answer  as  he  glanced  up 
that  way.  "  We've  got  her  going,  old-timer,"  he  an- 
nounced lazily  to  the  star. 

Six  miles  back  toward  the  edge  of  the  "  breaks " 
which  are  really  the  beginning  of  the  Badlands  that 
border  the  Missouri  River  all  through  that  part  of 
Montana,  an  even  five  hundred  head  of  the  Flying  IPs 
best  grade  cows  and  their  calves  were  settling  down  for 
the  night  upon  a  knoll  that  had  been  the  bed-ground 
of  many  a  herd.  At  the  Flying  U  ranch,  in  the  care 
of  the  Old  Man,  were  the  mortgages  that  would  make 
the  Happy  Family  nominal  owners  of  those  five 


ANDY   LIES    TO    A   LADY     129 

hundred  cows  and  their  calves.  In  the  morning  Andy 
would  ride  back  and  help  bring  the  herd  upon  its 
spring  grazing  ground,  which  was  the  claims;  in  the 
meantime  he  was  leisurely  obeying  an  impulse  to  ride 
into  One  Man  Coulee  and  spend  the  night  under  his 
own  roof.  And,  say  what  you  will,  there  is  a  satis- 
faction not  to  be  denied  in  sleeping  sometimes  under 
one's  own  roof;  and  it  doesn't  matter  in  the  least  that 
the  roof  is  made  of  prairie  dirt  thrown  upon  cotton- 
wood  poles.  So  he  sang  while  he  rode,  and  his  voice 
boomed  loud  in  the  coulee  and  scared  long-stilled  echoes 
into  repeating  the  song : 

"  We're  here  because  we're  here,  because  we're  here,  because 

we're  here, 
We're  here  because  we're  here,  because  we're  here,  because 

we're  here !  " 

That,  if  you  please,  is  a  song;  there  are  a  lot  more 
verses  exactly  like  this  one,  which  may  be  sung  to  the 
tune  of  Auld  Lang  Syne  with  much  effectiveness  when 
one  is  in  a  certain  mood.  So  Andy  sang,  while  his 
tired  horse  picked  its  way  circumspectly  among  the 
scattered  rocks  of  the  trail  up  the  coulee. 

"  It's  time  you're  here,  it's  time  you're  here, 
It's  time  that  you  were  here — " 

mocked  an  echo  not  of  the  hills. 


130    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

Andy  swore  in  his  astonishment  and  gave  his  horse 
a  kick  as  a  mild  hint  for  haste.  He  thought  he  knew 
every  woman-voice  in  the  neighborhood  —  or  had  until 
the  colony  came  —  but  this  voice,  high  and  sweet  and 
with  a  compelling  note  that  stirred  him  vaguely,  was 
absolutely  strange.  While  he  loped  forward,  silenced 
for  the  moment,  he  was  conscious  of  a  swift,  keen 
thankfulness  that  Pink  had  at  the  last  minute  decided 
to  stay  in  camp  that  night  instead  of  accompanying 
Andy  to  One  Man.  He  was  in  that  mood  when  a 
sentimental  encounter  appealed  to  him  strongly ;  and  a 
woman's  voice,  singing  to  him  from  One  Man  cabin, 
promised  undetermined  adventure. 

He  did  not  sing  again.     There  had  been  something 
in  the  voice  that  held  him  quiet,  listening,  expectant. 
But  she  also  was  silent  after  that  last,  high  note  — 
like  a  meadow  lark  startled  in  the  middle  of  his  song, 
thought  Andy  whimsically. 

He  came  within  sight  of  the  cabin,  squatting  in  the 
shadow  of  the  grove  at  its  back.  He  half  expected 
to  see  a  light,  but  the  window  was  dark,  the  door  closed 
as  he  had  left  it.  He  felt  a  faint,  unreasoning  dis- 
appointment that  it  was  so.  But  he  had  heard  her. 
That  high  note  that  lingered  upon  the  word  "  here  " 
still  tingled  his  senses.  His  eyes  sent  seeking  glances 
here  and  there  as  he  rode  up. 


ANDY   LIES    TO   A   LADY     131 

Then  a  horse  nickered  welcomingly,  and  someone 
rode  out  from  the  deeper  shadow  at  the  corner  of  the 
cabin,  hesitated  as  though  tempted  to  flight,  and  came 
on  uncertainly.  They  met  full  before  the  cabin,  and 
the  woman  leaned  and  peered  through  the  dusk  at 
Andy. 

"  Is  this  —  Mr.  Mallory  —  Irish  ?  "  she  asked  nerv- 
ously. "  Oh  dear !  Have  I  gone  and  made  a  fool  of 
myself  again  ?  " 

"  E"ot  at  all !  Good  evening,  Miss  Allen."  Andy 
folded  his  hands  upon  the  saddle  horn  and  regarded 
her  with  a  little  smile,  keen  for  what  might  come  next. 

"  But  you're  not  Irish  Mallory.  I  thought  I  recog- 
nized the  voice,  or  I  wouldn't  have  — "  She  urged  her 
horse  a  step  closer,  and  Andy  observed  from  her  man- 
ner that  she  was  not  accustomed  to  horses.  She 
reined  as  if  she  were  driving,  so  that  the  horse,  be- 
wildered, came  sidling  up  to  him.  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 
she  asked  him  sharply. 

"  Me  ?  Why,  I'm  a  nice  young  man  —  a  lot  better 
singer  than  Irish.  I  guess  you  never  heard  him,  did 
you  ?  "  He  kept  his  hands  folded  on  the  horn,  his 
whole  attitude  passive  —  a  restful,  reassuring  pas- 
sivity that  lulled  her  uneasiness  more  than  words  could 
have  done. 

"  Oh,  are  you  Mr.  Green  ?     I  seem  to  connect  that 


132    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

name  with  your  voice  —  and  what  little  I  can  see  of 
you." 

"  That's  something,  anyway."  Andy's  tone  was  one 
of  gratitude.  "  It's  two  per  cent,  better  than  having 
to  tell  you  right  out  who  I  am.  I  met  you  three  dif- 
ferent times,  Miss  Allen,"  he  reproached. 

"  But  always  in  a  crowd,"  she  defended,  "  and  I 
never  talked  with  you,  particularly." 

"  Oh,  well,  that's  easily  fixed,"  he  said.  "  It's  a  nice 
night,"  he  added,  looking  up  appreciatively  at  the 
brightening  star-sprinkle.  "  Are  you  living  on  your 
claim  now  ?  We  can  talk  particularly  on  the  way  over." 

Miss  Allen  laughed  and  groped  for  a  few  loose  hairs, 
found  them  and  tucked  them  carefully  under  her  hat- 
crown.  Andy  remembered  that  gesture ;  it  helped  him 
to  visualize  her  clearly  in  spite  of  the  deepening  night. 

"  How  far  have  you  ridden  today,  Mr.  Green  ? " 
she  asked  irrelevantly. 

"  Since  daylight,  you  mean  ?  Not  so  very  far 
counting  miles  —  We  were  trailing  a  herd,  you  see. 
But  I've  been  in  the  saddle  since  sunrise,  except  when 
I  was  eating." 

"  Then  you  want  a  cup  of  coffee,  before  you  ride 
any  farther.  If  I  get  down,  will  you  let  me  make  it 
for  you  ?  I'd  love  to.  I'm  crazy  to  see  inside  your 
cabin,  but  I  only  rode  up  and  tried  to  peek  in  the 


ANDY   LIES    TO    A   LADY     133 

window  before  you  came.  I  have  two  brothers  and  a 
cousin,  so  I  understand  men  pretty  well  and  I  know 
you  can  talk  better  when  you  aren't  hungry." 

"  Are  you  living  on  your  claim  I  "  he  asked  again, 
without  moving. 

"  Why,  yes.     We  moved  in  last  week." 

"  Well,  we'll  ride  over,  then,  and  you  can  make  coffee 
there.  I'm  not  hungry  right  now." 

"  Oh."  She  leaned  again  and  peered  at  him,  try- 
ing to  read  his  face.  "  You  don't  want  me  to  go  in !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  —  but  I  don't.  If  you  stayed  and  made 
coffee,  tomorrow  you'd  be  kicking  yourself  for  it,  and 
you'd  be  blaming  me."  Which,  considering  the  life 
he  had  lived,  almost  wholly  among  men,  was  rather 
astute  of  Andy  Green. 

"  Oh."  Then  she  laughed.  "  You  must  have  some 
sisters,  Mr.  Green."  She  was  silent  for  a  minute, 
looking  at  him.  "  You're  right,"  she  said  quietly  then. 
"  I'm  always  making  a  fool  of  myself,  just  on  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment.  The  girls  will  be  worried  about 
me,  as  it  is.  But  I  don't  want  you  to  ride  any  farther, 
Mr.  Green.  What  I  came  to  say  need  not  take  very 
long,  and  I  think  I  can  find  my  way  home  alone,  all 
right." 

"  I'll  take  you  home  when  you're  ready  to  go,"  said 
Andy  quietly.  All  at  once  he  had  wanted  to  shield 


134     FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

her,  to  protect  her  from  even  so  slight  an  unconven- 
tionality  as  making  his  coffee  for  him.  He  had  felt 
averse  to  putting  her  at  odds  with  her  conventional  self, 
of  inviting  unfavorable  criticism  of  himself;  dimly, 
because  instinct  rather  than  cold  analysis  impelled  him. 
What  he  had  told  her  was  the  sum  total  of  his  form- 
ulated ideas. 

"  Well,  I'm  ready  to  go  now,  since  you  insist  on  my 
being  conventional.  I  did  not  come  West  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  being  tied  to  a  book  of  etiquette,  Mr. 
Green.  But  I  find  one  can't  get  away  from  it  after 
all.  Still,  living  on  one's  own  claim  twelve  miles  from 
a  town  is  something !  " 

"  That's  a  whole  lot,  I  should  say,"  Andy  assured 
her  politely,  and  refrained  from  asking  her  what  she 
expected  to  do  with  that  eighty  acres  of  arid  land. 
He  turned  his  tired  horse  and  rode  alongside  her, 
prudently  waiting  for  her  to  give  the  key. 

"  I'm  not  supposed  to  be  away  over  here,  you  know," 
she  began  when  they  were  near  the  foot  of  the  bluff 
up  which  the  trail  wound  seeking  the  easiest  slopes 
and  avoiding  bowlders  and  deep  cuts.  "  I'm  supposed 
to  be  just  out  riding,  and  the  girls  expected  me  back 
by  sundown.  But  I've  been  trying  and  trying  to  find 
some  of  you  '  Flying  U  boys  ' —  as  they  call  you  men 
who  have  taken  so  much  land  —  on  your  claims.  I 


ANDY   LIES    TO   A   LADY     135 

don't  know  that  what  I  could  tell  you  would  do  you  a 
particle  of  good  —  or  anyone  else.  But  I  wanted  to 
tell  you,  anyway,  just  to  clear  my  own  mind." 

"  It  does  lots  of  good  just  to  meet  you/'  said  Andy 
with  straightforward  gallantry.  "  Pleasures  are  few 
and  far  between,  out  here." 

"  You  said  that  very  nicely,  I'm  sure,"  she  snubbed. 
"  Well,  I'm  going  to  tell  you,  anyway  —  just  on  the 
chance  of  doing  some  good."  Then  she  stopped. 

Andy  rode  a  rod  or  two,  glancing  at  her  inquiringly, 
waiting  for  her  to  go  on.  She  was  guiding  her  horse 
awkwardly  where  it  needed  only  to  be  let  alone,  and 
he  wanted  to  give  her  a  lesson  in  riding.  But  it  seemed 
too  early  in  their  acquaintance  for  that,  so  he  waited 
another  minute. 

"  Miss  Hallman  is  going  to  make  you  a  lot  of 
trouble,"  she  began  abruptly.  "  I  thought  perhaps  it 
might  be  better  for  you  —  all  of  you  —  if  you  knew 
it  in  advance,  so  there  would  be  no  sudden  anger  and 
excitement.  All  the  settlers  are  antagonistic,  Mr. 
Green  —  all  but  me,  and  one  or  two  of  the  girls.  They 
are  going  to  do  everything  they  can  to  prevent  your 
land-scheme  from  going  through.  You  are  going  to 
be  watched  and  —  and  your  land  contested  — " 

"Well,  we'll  be  right  there,  I  guess,  when  the  dust 
settles,"  he  filled  in  her  thought  unmoved. 


136     FLYING   IT'S    LAST    STAND 

"I  —  almost  hope  so/'  she  ventured.  "  For  my 
part,  I  can  see  the  side  —  your  side.  I  can  see  where 
it  is  very  hard  for  the  cattle  men  to  give  up  their  range. 
It  is  like  the  big  plantations  down  south,  when  the 
slaves  were  freed.  It  had  to  be  done,  and  yet  it  was 
hard  upon  those  planters  who  depended  on  free  labor. 
They  resented  it  deeply;  deeply  enough  to  shed  blood 
-and  that  is  one  thing  I  dread  here.  I  hope,  Mr. 
Green,  that  you  will  not  resort  to  violence.  I  want 
to  urge  you  all  to  —  to  — " 

"  I  understand,"  said  Andy  softly.  "  A-course, 
we're  pretty  bad  when  we  get  started,  all  right.  We're 
liable  to  ride  up  on  dark  nights  and  shoot  our  enemies 
through  the  window  —  I  can't  deny  it,  Miss  Allen.  And 
if  it  comes  right  to  a  show-down,  I  may  as  well  admit 
that  some  of  us  would  think  nothing  at  all  of  taking  a 
man  out  and  hanging  him  to  the  first  tree  we  come  to, 
that  was  big  enough  to  hold  him.  But  now  that  ladies 
have  come  into  the  country,  a-course  we'll  try  and  hold 
our  tempers  down  all  we  can.  Miss  Hallman,  now- 
I  don't  suppose  there's  a  man  in  the  bunch  that  would 
shoot  her,  no  matter  what  she  done  to  us.  We  take 
pride  in  being  polite  to  women.  You've  read  that 
about  us,  haven't  you,  Miss  Allen  ?  And  you've  seen 
us  on  the  stage  —  well,  it's  a  fact,  all  right.  Bad  as 
we  are,  and  wild  and  tough,  and  savage  when  we're 


ANDY   LIES    TO    A   LADY     137 

crossed,  a  lady  can  just  do  anything  with  us,  if  she 
goes  at  it  the  right  way." 

"  Thank  you.  I  felt  sure  that  you  would  not  harm 
any  of  us.  Will  you  promise  not  to  be  violent  —  not 
to  —  to  — " 

Andy  sat  sidewise  in  the  saddle,  so  that  he  faced 
her.  Miss  Allen  could  just  make  out  his  form  dis- 
tinctly; his  face  was  quite  hidden,  except  that  she 
could  see  the  shine  of  his  eyes. 

"  Now,  Miss  Allen,"  he  protested  with  soft  apology. 
"  You  musta  known  what  to  expect  when  you  moved 
out  amongst  us  rough  characters.  You  know  I  can't 
make  any  promises  about  being  mild  with  the  men 
that  try  to  get  the  best  of  us.  If  you've  got  friends 
—  brothers  —  anybody  here  that  you  think  a  lot  of, 
Miss  Allen,  I  advise  you  to  send  'em  outa  the  country 
before  trouble  breaks  loose;  because  when  she  starts, 
she'll  start  a-popping.  I  know  I  can't  answer  for  my- 
self, what  I'm  liable  to  do  if  they  bother  me;  and 
I'm  about  the  mildest  one  in  the  bunch.  What  the  rest 
of  the  boys  would  do  —  Irish  Mallory  for  instance  — 
I  hate  to  think,  Miss  Allen.  I  —  hate  —  to  —  think !  " 

Afterwards,  when  he  thought  it  all  over  dispas- 
sionately, Andy  wondered  why  he  had  talked  to  Miss 
Allen  like  that.  He  had  not  done  it  deliberately,  just 
to  frighten  her  —  yet  he  had  frightened  her  to  a  cer- 


138    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

tain  extent.  He  had  roused  her  apprehension  for  the 
safety  of  her  neighbors  and  the  ultimate  well-being 
of  himself  and  his  fellows.  She  had  been  so  anxious 
over  winning  him  to  more  peaceful  ways  that  she  had 
forgotten  to  give  him  any  deails  of  the  coming  struggle. 
Andy  was  sorry  for  that.  He  wished,  on  the  way  home, 
that  he  knew  just  what  Florence  Grace  Hallman  in- 
tended to  do. 

!N~ot  that  it  mattered  greatly.  Whatever  she  did, 
Andy  felt  that  it  would  be  futile.  The  Happy  Family 
were  obeying  the  land  laws  implicitly,  except  as  their 
real  incentive  had  been  an  unselfish  one.  He  could 
not  feel  that  it  was  wrong  to  try  and  saVe  the  Flying 
U ;  was  not  loyalty  a  virtue  ?  And  was  not  the  taking 
of  land  for  the  preservation  of  a  fine,  fair  dealing  out- 
fit that  had  made  itself  a  power  for  prosperity  and 
happiness  in  that  country,  a  perfectly  laudable  en- 
terprise ?  Andy  believed  so. 

Even  though  they  did,  down  in  their  deepest 
thoughts,  think  of  the  Flying  IPs  interest,  Andy  did 
not  believe  that  Florence  -Grace  Hallman  or  anyone 
else  could  produce  any  evidence  that  would  justify  a 
contest  for  their  land.  Though  they  planned  among 
themselves  for  the  good  of  the  Flying  U,  they  were 
obeying  the  law  and  the  dictates  of  their  range-con- 
science and  their  personal  ideas  of  right  and  justice 


ANDY   LIES    TO   A   LADY     139 

and  loyalty  to  their  friends  and  to  themselves.  They 
were  not  conspiring  against  the  general  prosperity  of 
the  country  in  the  hope  of  great  personal  gain.  When 
you  came  to  that,  they  were  saving  fifty  men  from 
bitter  disappointment  —  counting  one  settler  to  every 
eighty  acres,  as  the  Syndicate  apparently  did. 

Still,  Andy  wondered  why  he  had  represented  him- 
self and  his  friends  to  be  such  bloodthirsty  devils. 
He  grinned  wickedly  over  some  of  the  things  he  had 
said,  and  over  her  womanly  perturbation  and  pleading 
that  they  would  spare  the  lives  of  their  enemies.  Oh, 
well  —  if  she  repeated  half  to  Florence  Grace  Hall- 
man,  that  lady  would  maybe  think  twice  before  she- 
tackled  the  contract  of  boosting  the  Happy  Family 
off  their  claims.  So  at  the  last  he  managed  to  justify 
his  lying  to  her.  He  liked  Miss  Allen.  He  was 
pleased  to  think  that  at  least  she  would  not  forget 
him  the  minute  he  was  out  of  her  sight. 

He  went  to  sleep  worrying,  not  over  the  trouble 
which  Florence  Grace  Hallman  might  be  plotting  to 
bring  upon  him,  but  about  Miss  Allen's  given  name 
and  her  previous  condition  of  servitude.  He  hoped 
that  she  was  not  a  stenographer,  and  he  hoped  her  first 
name  was  not  Mary;  and  if  you  know  the  history  of 
Andy  Green  you  will  remember  that  he  had  a  reason 
for  disliking  both  the  name  and  the  vocation. 


CHAPTEK    XI 

A    MOVING    CHAPTEB    IN    EVENTS 

HAVIKG  nothing  more  than  a  general  warning  of 
trouble  ahead  to  disturb  him,  Andy  rode  blithely 
back  down  the  coulee  and  met  the  herd  just  after  sun- 
rise. Dreams  of  Miss  Allen  had  left  a  pleasant  mood 
behind  them,  though  the  dreams  themselves  withdrew 
behind  the  veil  of  forgetfulness  when  he  awoke.  He 
wondered  what  her  first  name  was.  He  wondered  how 
far  Irish's  acquaintance  with  her  had  progressed,  but 
he  did  not  worry  much  about  Irish.  Having  repre- 
sented himself  to  be  an  exceedingly  dangerous  man,  and 
having  permitted  himself  to  be  persuaded  into  promis- 
ing reform  and  a  calm  demeanor  —  for  her  sake  —  he 
felt  tolerably  sure  of  her  interest  in  him.  He  had 
heard  that  a  woman  loves  best  the  taming  of  a  danger- 
ous man,  and  he  whistled  and  sang  and  smiled  until  the 
dust  of  the  coming  herd  met  him  full.  Since  he  felt 
perfectly  sure  of  the  result,  he  hoped  that  Florence 
Grace  Hallman  would  start  something,  just  so  that  he 
might  show  Miss  Allen  how  potent  was  her  influence 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     141 

over  a  bad,  bad  man  who  still  has  virtues  worth  nurtur- 
ing carefully. 

Weary,  riding  point  on  the  loitering  herd,  grinned  a 
wordless  greeting.  Andy  passed  with  a  casual  wave  of 
his  hand  and  took  his  place  on  the  left  flank.  From  his 
face  Weary  guessed  that  all  was  well  with  the  claims, 
and  the  assurance  served  to  lighten  his  spirits.  Soon 
he  heard  Andy  singing  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  his 
own  thoughts  fell  into  accord  with  the  words  of  the 
ditty.  He  began  to  sing  also,  whenever  he  knew  the 
words.  Farther  back,  Pink  took  it  up,  and  then  the 
others  joined  in,  until  all  unconsciously  they  had  turned 
the  monotonous  drive  into  a  triumphal  march. 

"  They're  a  little  bit  rough  I  must  confess,  the  most 
of  them  at  least,"  prompted  Andy,  starting  on  the  sec- 
ond verse  alone  because  the  others  didn't  know  the  song 
as  well  as  he.  He  waited  a  second  for  them  to  join  him, 
and  went  on  extolling  the  valor  of  all  true  cowboys : 

"  But  long's  you  do  not  cross  their  trail  you  can  live 
with  them  at  peace. 

"  But  if  you  do  they're  sure  to  rule,  the  day  you 
come  to  their  land, 

"  For  they'll  follow  you  up  and  shoot  it  out,  and  do 
it  man  to  man." 

"  Say,  Weary !  They  tell  me  Florence  Grace  is  sure 
hittin'  the  warpost ! '  Ain't  yuh  scared  ?  " 


142     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Weary  shook  his  head  and  rode  forward  to  ease  the 
leaders  into  a  narrow  gulch  that  would  cut  off  a  mile  or 
so  of  the  journey. 

"  Taking  'em  up  One  Man  ?  "  called  Pink,  and  got  a 
nod  for  answer.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  singing  while 
they  shouted  and  swore  at  those  stubborn  cows  who 
would  have  tried  to  break  back  on  the  way  to  a  clover 
patch,  until  the  gulch  broadened  into  an  arm  of  One 
Man  Coulee  itself.  It  was  all  peaceful  and  easy  and 
just  as  they  had  planned.  The  morning  was  cool  and 
the  cattle  contented.  They  were  nearing  their  claims, 
and  all  that  would  remain  for  them  to  do  was  the  hold- 
ing of  their  herd  upon  the  appointed  grazing  ground. 
So  would  the  requirements  of  the  law  be  fulfilled  and 
the  machinations  of  the  Syndicate  be  thwarted  and  the 
land  saved  to  the  Flying  U,  all  in  one. 

And  then  the  leaders,  climbing  the  hill  at  a  point 
half  a  mile  below.  Andy's  cabin,  balked,  snorted  and 
swung  back.  Weary  spurred  up  to  push  them  forward, 
and  so  did  Andy  and  Pink.  They  rode  up  over  the 
ridge  shouting  and  urging  the  reluctant  cattle  ahead, 
and  came  plump  into  the  very  dooryard  of  a  brand  new 
shack.  A  man  was  standing  in  the  doorway  watching 
the  disturbance  his  presence  had  created ;  when  he  saw 
the  three  riders  come  bulging  up  over  the  crest  of  the 
bluff,  his  eyes  widened. 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     143 

The  three  came  to  a  stop  before  him,  too  astonished 
to  do  more  than  stare.  Once  past  the  fancied  menace 
of  the  new  building  and  the  man,  the  cattle  went  trot- 
ting awkwardly  across  the  level,  their  calves  galloping 
alongside. 

"  Hello,"  said  Weary  at  last,  "  what  do  you  think 
you're  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  I'm  holding  down  a  claim.  What  are  you 
doing  ? "  The  man  did  not  seem  antagonistic  or 
friendly  or  even  neutral  toward  them.  He  seemed  to 
be  waiting.  He  eyed  the  cattle  that  kept  coming,  urged 
on  by  those  who  shouted  at  them  in  the  coulee  below. 
He  watched  them  spread  out  and  go  trotting  away  after 
the  leaders. 

"  Say,  when  did  yuh  take  this  claim  ? "  Andy  leaned 
negligently  forward  and  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"  Oh,  a  week  or  so  ago.     Why  ?  " 

"  I  just  wondered.  I  took  it  up  myself,  four  weeks 
ago.  Four  forties  I've  got,  strung  out  in  a  line  that 
runs  from  here  to  yonder.  You've  got  over  on  my  land 
—  by  mistake,  of  course.  I  just  thought  I'd  tell  yuh," 
he  added  casually,  straightening  up,  "  because  I  didn't 
think  you  knew  it  before." 

"  Thanks."  The  man  smiled  one-sidedly  and  began 
filling  a  pipe  while  he  watched  them. 

"  A-course/  it  won't  be  much  trouble  to  move  your 


144    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

shack/'  Andy  continued  with  neighborly  interest.  "  A 
wheelbarrow  will  take  it,  easy.  Back  here  on  the  bench 
a  mile  or  so,  yuh  may  find  a  patch  of  ground  that  no- 
body claims." 

"  Thanks."  The  man  picked  a  match  from  his 
pocket  and  striking  it  on  the  new  yellow  door-casing 
lighted  his  pipe. 

Andy  moved  uneasily.  He  did  not  like  that  man,  for 
all  he  appeared  so  thankful  for  information.  The  fel- 
low had  a  narrow  forehead  and  broad,  high  cheek  bones 
and  a  predatory  nose.  His  eyes  were  the  wrong  shade 
of  blue  and  the  lids  drooped  too  much  at  the  outer  cor- 
ners. Andy  studied  him  curiously.  Did  the  man  know 
what  he  was  up  against,  or  did  he  not  ?  Was  he  sincere 
in  his  ready  thanks,  or  was  he  sarcastic?  The  man 
looked  up  at  him  then.  His  eyes  were  clean  of  any 
hidden  meaning,  but  they  were  the  wrong  shade  of  blue 
—  the  shade  that  is  opaque  and  that  you  feel  hides  much 
that  should  be  revealed  to  you. 

"  Seems  like  there's  been  quite  a  crop  of  shacks  grown 
up  since  I  rode  over  this  way,"  Weary  announced  sud- 
denly, returning  from  a  brief  scurry  after  the  leaders, 
that  inclined  too  much  toward  the  south  in  their  travel. 

"  Yes,  the  country's  settling  up  pretty  fast,"  con- 
ceded the  man  in  the  doorway. 

"  Well,  by  golly !  "  bellowed  Slim,  popping  up  from 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     145 

below  on  a  heaving  horse.  Slim  was  getting  fatter 
every  year,  and  his  horses  always  puffed  when  they 
climbed  a  hill  under  his  weight.  His  round  eyes  glared 
resentfully  at  the  man  and  the  shack  and  at  the  three 
who  were  sitting  there  so  quietly  on  their  horses  —  just 
as  if  they  had  ridden  up  for  a  friendly  call.  "  Ain't 
this  shack  on  your  land  ?  "  he  spluttered  to  Andy. 

"  Why,  yes.  It  is,  just  right  at  present/'  Andy  ad- 
mitted, following  the  man's  example  in  the  matter  of  a 
smoke,  except  that  Andy  rolled  and  lighted  a  cigarette. 
"  He's  going  to  move  it,  though." 

"  Oh.     Thanks."     With  the  one-sided  smile. 

"  Say,  you  needn't  thank  me/'  Andy  protested  in  his" 
polite  tone.  ff  You  re  going  to  move  it,  you  know." 

"  You  may  know,  but  I  don't,"  corrected  the  other. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  You  may  not  know  right 
now,  but  don't  let  that  worry  yuh.  This  is  sure  a  great 
country  for  pilgrims  to  wise  up  in." 

Big  Medicine  came  up  over  the  hill  a  hundred  feet 
or  so  from  them ;  goggled  a  minute  at  the  bold  trespass 
and  came  loping  across  the  intervening  space.  "  Say, 
by  cripes,  what's  this  mean  ?  "  he  bawled.  "  Claim- 
jumper,  hey  ?  Say,  young  feller,  do  you  realize  what 
you're  doing  —  squattin'  down  on  another  man's  land  ? 
Don't  yuh  know  claim- jumpers  git  shot,  out  here  ?  Or 
lynched?" 


146    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

"  Oh,  cut  out  all  that  rough  stuff !  "  advised  the  man 
wearily.  "  I  know  who  you  are,  and  what  your  bluff 
is  worth.  I  know  you  can't  hold  a  foot  of  land  if  any- 
body is  a  mind  to  contest  your  claims.  I've  filed  a 
contest  on  this  eighty,  here,  and  I'm  going  to  hold  it. 
Let  that  soak  into  your  minds.  I  don't  want  any 
trouble  —  I'm  even  willing  to  take  a  good  deal  in  the 
way  of  bluster,  rather  than  have  trouble.  But  I'm 
going  to  stay.  See  ?  "  He  waved  his  pipe  in  a  gesture 
of  finality  and  continued  to  smoke  and  to  watch  them 
impersonally,  leaning  against  the  door  in  that  lounging 
negligence  which  is  so  irritating  to  a  disputant. 

"  Oh,  all  right  —  if  that's  the  way  you  feel  about 
it,"  Andy  replied  indifferently,  and  turned  away. 
"  Come  on,  boys  —  no  use  trying  to  bluff  that  gazabo. 
He's  wise." 

He  rode  away  with  his  face  turned  over  his  shoulder 
to  see  if  the  others  were  going  to  follow.  When  he  was 
past  the  corner  and  therefore  out  of  the  man's  sight,  he 
raised  his  arm  and  beckoned  to  them  imperatively, 
with  a  jerk  of  his  head  to  add  insistence.  The  four  of 
them  looked  after  him  uncertainly.  Weary  kicked  his 
horse  and  started,  then  Pink  did  the  same.  Andy 
beckoned  again,  more  emphatically  than  before,  and 
Big  Medicine,  who  loved  a  fight  as  he  loved  to  win  a 
jackpot,  turned  and  glared  at  the  man  in  the  doorway 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     147 

as  he  passed.  Slim  was  rumbling  by-golly  ultimatums 
in  his  fat  chest  when  he  came  up. 

"  Pink,  you  go  on  back  and  put  the  boys  next,  so 
when  they  come  up  with  the  drag  they  won't  do  any- 
thing much  but  hand  out  a  few  remarks  and  ride  on," 
Andy  said,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  knows  exactly  what 
he  means  to  do.  "  This  is  my  claim- jumper. 
Chances  are  I've  got  three  more  to  handle  —  or  will 
have.  Nothing  like  starting  off  right.  Tell  the  boys  to 
just  rag  the  fellow  a  little  and  ride  on,  like  we  did.  Get 
the  cattle  up  here  and  set  Happy  and  Slim  day-herding, 
and  the  rest  of  us'll  get  busy." 

"  You  wouldn't  tell  for  a  dollar,  would  yuh  ?  "  Pink 
asked  him  with  his  dimples  showing. 

"  I've  got  to  think  it  out  first,"  Andy  evaded.  "  I 
feel  all  the  symptoms  of  an  idea.  You  let  me  alone  a 
while." 

"  Say,  yuh  going  to  tell  him  he's  been  found  out  and 
yuh  know  his  past,"  began  Slim,  "  like  yuh  done  to 
Dunk  ?  I'll  bet,  by  golly  — " 

"  Go  on  off  and  lay  down !  "  Andy  retorted  pettishly. 
"  I  never  worked  the  same  one  off  on  you  twice,  did  I  ? 
Think  I'm  getting  feeble-minded  ?  It  ain't  hard  to  put 
his  nibs  on  the  run  —  that's  dead  easy.  Trouble  is,  I 
went  and  hobbled  myself.  I  promised  a  lady  I'd  be 
mild." 


148    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Mamma !  "  muttered  Weary,  his  sunny  eyes  taking 
in  the  shack-dotted  horizon.  "  Mild !  —  and  all  these 
jumpers  on  our  hands !  " 

"  Oh,  well  —  there's  more'n  one  way  to  kill  a  cat," 
Andy  reminded  them  cheerfully.  "  You  go  on  back 
and  post  the  boys,  Pink,  not  to  get  too  riled." 

He  galloped  off  and  left  them  to  say  and  think  what 
they  pleased.  He  was  not  uneasy  over  their  following 
his  advice  or  waiting  for  his  plan.  For  Andy  Green 
had  risen  rapidly  to  a  tacit  leadership,  since  first  he 
told  them  of  the  coming  colony.  From  being  the  offi- 
cial Ananias  of  the  outfit,  king  of  all  joke-makers,  chief 
irritator  of  the  bunch,  whose  lightest  word  was  sus- 
pected of  hiding  some  deep  meaning  and  whose  most 
innocent  action  was  analysed,  he  had  come  to  the  point 
where  they  listened  to  him  and  depended  upon  him  to  see 
a  way  out  of  every  difficulty.  They  would  depend 
upon  him  now;  of  that  he  was  sure  —  therefore  they 
would  wait  for  his  plan. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  Happy  Family  had  not 
seriously  considered  the  possibility  of  having  their 
claims  "  jumped  "  so  long  as  they  kept  valid  their  legal 
residence.  They  had  thought  that  they  would  be 
watched  and  accused  of  collusion  with  the  Flying  U, 
and  they  intended  to  be  extremely  careful.  They 
meant  to  stay  upon  their  claims  at  least  seven  months 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     149 

in  the  year,  which  the  law  required.  They  meant  to 
have  every  blade  of  grass  eaten  by  their  own  cattle, 
which  would  be  counted  as  improving  their  claims. 
They  meant  to  give  a  homelike  air  of  permanency  to 
their  dwellings.  They  had  already  talked  over  a  ten- 
tative plan  of  bringing  water  to  their  desert  claims,  and 
had  ridden  over  the  bench-land  for  two  days,  with  the 
plat  at  hand  for  reference,  that  they  might  be  sure  of 
choosing  their  claims  wisely.  They  had  prepared  for 
every  contingency  save  the  one  that  had  arisen  —  which 
is  a  common  experience  with  us  all.  They  had  not  ex- 
pected that  their  claims  would  be  jumped  and  contests 
filed  so  early  in  the  game,  as  long  as  they  maintained 
their  residence. 

However,  Andy  was  not  dismayed  at  the  turn  of 
events.  It  was  stimulating  to  the  imagination  to  be 
brought  face  to  face  with  an  emergency  such  as  this, 
and  to  feel  that  one  must  handle  it  with  strength  and 
diplomacy  and  a  mildness  of  procedure  that  would  find 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  a  girl. 

He  looked  across  the  waving  grass  to  where  the  four- 
roomed  shack  was  built  upon  the  four  corners  of  four 
"  eighties  "  so  that  four  women  might  live  together  and 
yet  be  said  to  live  upon  their  own  claims.  That  was 
drawing  the  line  pretty  fine,  of  course;  finer  than  the 
Happy  Family  would  have  dared  to  draw  it.  But  no 


150    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

one  would  raise  any  objection,  on  account  of  their  being 
women  and  timid  about  living  alone.  Andy  smiled 
sympathetically  because  the  four  conjunctive  corners  of 
the  four  claims  happened  to  lie  upon  a  bald  pinnacle 
bare  of  grass  or  shelter  or  water,  even.  The  shack  stood 
bleakly  revealed  to  the  four  winds  —  but  also  it  over^ 
looked  the  benchland  and  the  rolling,  half -barren  land 
to  the  west,  which  comprised  Antelope  Coulee  and  Dry 
Coulee  and  several  other  good-for-nothing  coulees  capa- 
ble of  supporting  nothing  but  coyotes  and  prairie  dogs 
and  gophers. 

A  mile  that  way  Andy  rode,  and  stopped  upon  the 
steep  side  of  a  gulch  which  was  an  arm  of  Antelope 
Coulee.  He  looked  down  into  the  gulch,  searched  with 
his  eyes  for  the  stake  that  marked  the  southeast  corner 
of  the  eighty  lying  off  in  this  direction  from  the  shack, 
and  finally  saw  it  fifty  yards  away  on  a  bald  patch  of 
adobe. 

He  resisted  the  temptation  to  ride  over  and  call  upon 
Miss  Allen  —  the  resistance  made  easier  by  the  hour, 
which  was  eight  o'clock  or  thereabouts  —  and  rode  back 
to  the  others  very  well  satisfied  with  himself  and  his 
plan. 

He  found  the  whole  Happy  Family  gathered  upon 
the  level  land  just  over  his  west  line,  extolling  resent- 
ment while  they  waited  his  coming.  Grinning,  he  told 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     151 

them  his  plan,  and  set  them  grinning  also.  He  gave 
them  certain  work  to  be  done,  and  watched  them  scat- 
ter to  do  his  bidding.  Then  he  turned  and  rode  away 
upon  business  of  his  own. 

The  claim- jumper,  watching  the  bench  land  through 
a  pair  of  field  glasses,  saw  a  herd  of  cows  and  calves 
scattered  and  feeding  contentedly  upon  the  young  grass 
a  mile  or  so  away.  Two  men  on  horseback  loitered 
upon  the  outer  fringe  of  the  herd.  Erom  a  distant 
hilltop  came  the  staccato  sound  of  hammers  where  an- 
other shack  was  going  up.  Cloud  shadows  slid  silently 
over  the  land,  with  bright  sunlight  chasing  after.  Of 
the  other  horsemen  who  had  come  up  the  bluff  with  the 
cattle,  he  saw  not  a  sign.  So  the  man  yawned  and  went 
in  to  his  breakfast. 

Many  times  that  day  he  stood  at  the  corner  of  his 
shack  with  the  glasses  sweeping  the  bench-land.  To- 
ward noon  the  cattle  drifted  into  a  coulee  where  there 
was  water.  In  a  couple  of  hours  they  drifted  leisurely 
back  upon  high  ground  and  scattered  to  their  feeding, 
still  watched  and  tended  by  the  two  horsemen  who. 
looked  the  most  harmless  of  individuals.  One  was  fat 
and  red-faced  and  spent  at  least  half  of  his  time  lying 
prone  upon  some  slope  in  the  shade  of  his  horse.  The 
other  was  thin  and  awkward,  and  slouched  in  the  saddle 
or  sat  upon  the  ground  with  his  knees  drawn  up  and  his 


152    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

arms  clasped  loosely  around  them,  a  cigarette  dangling 
upon  his  lower  lip,  himself  the  picture  of  boredom. 

There  was  nothing  whatever  to  indicate  that  events 
were  breeding  in  that  peaceful  scene,  and  that  adventure 
was  creeping  close  upon  the  watcher.  He  went  in 
from  his  fourth  or  fifth  inspection,  and  took  a  nap. 

That  night  he  was  awakened  by  a  pounding  on  the 
side  of  the  shack  where  was  his  window.  By  the  time 
he  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  floor  —  and  you  could 
count  the  time  in  seconds  —  a  similar  pounding  was  at 
the  door.  He  tried  to  open  the  door  and  couldn't.  He 
went  to  the  window  and  could  see  nothing,  although  the 
night  had  not  been  dark  when  he  went  to  bed.  He 
shouted,  and  there  was  no  reply ;  nor  could  he  hear  any 
talking  without.  His  name,  by  the  way,  was  II.  J. 
Owens,  though  his  name  does  not  matter  except  for  con- 
venience in  mentioning  him.  Owens,  then,  lighted  a 
lamp,  and  almost  instantly  was  forced  to  reach  out 
quickly  and  save  it  from  toppling,  because  one  corner 
of  the  shack  was  lifting,  lifting  .  .  . 

Outside,  the  Happy  Family  worked  in  silence.  Be- 
fore they  had  left  One  Man  Coulee  they  had  known 
exactly  what  they  were  to  do,  and  how  to  do  it.  They 
knew  who  was  to  nail  the  hastily  constructed  shutter 
over  the  window.  They  knew  who  was  to  fasten  the 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     153 

door  so  that  it  could  not  be  opened  from  within.  They 
knew  also  who  were  to  use  the  crow-bars,  who  were  to 
roll  the  skids  under  the  shack. 

There  were  twelve  of  them  —  because  Bert  Rogers 
had  insisted  upon  helping.  In  not  many  more  minutes 
than  there  were  men,  they  were  in  their  saddles,  ready 
to  start.  The  shack  lurched  forward  after  the  strain- 
ing horses.  Once  it  was  fairly  started  it  moved  more 
easily  than  you  might  think  it  could  do,  upon  crude  run- 
ners made  of  cottonwood  logs  eight  inches  or  so  in 
diameter  and  long  enough  for  cross  pieces  bolted  in- 
front  and  rear.  The  horses  pulled  it  easily  with  the 
ropes  tied  to  the  saddle-horns,  just  as  they  had  many 
times  pulled  the  roundup  wagons  across  mirey  creeks 
or  up  steep  slopes;  just  as  they  had  many  times  pulled 
stubborn  cattle  or  dead  cattle  —  just  as  they  had  been 
trained  to  pull  anything  and  everything  their  masters 
chose  to  attach  to  their  ropes. 

Within,  Owens  called  to  them  and  cursed  them. 
When  they  had  just  gained  an  even  pace,  he  emptied 
his  revolver  through  the  four  sides  of  the  shack.  But 
he  did  not  know  where  they  were,  exactly,  so  that  he 
was  compelled  to  shoot  at  random.  And  since  the  five 
shots  seemed  to  have  no  effect  whatever  upon  the  steady 
progress  of  the  shack,  he  decided  to  wait  until  he  could 
see  where  to  aim.  There  was  no  use,  he  reflected,  in 


154    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

wasting  good  ammunition  when  there  was  a  strong 
probability  that  he  would  need  it  later. 

After  a  half  hour  or  more  of  continuous  travel,  the 
shack  tilted  on  a  steep  descent.  H.  J.  Owens  blew  out 
his  lamp  and  swore  when  a  box  came  sliding  against  his 
shins  in  the  dark.  The  descent  continued  until  it  was 
stopped  with  a  jolt  that  made  him  bite  his  tongue  pain- 
fully, so  that  tears  came  into  the  eyes  that  were  the 
wrong  shade  of  blue  to  please  Andy  Green.  He  heard 
a  laugh  cut  short  and  a  muttered  command,  and  that 
was  all.  The  shack  heaved,  toppled,  righted  itself  and 
went  on  down,  and  down,  and  down;  jerked  sidewise  to 
the  left,  went  forward  and  then  swung  joltingly  the 
other  way.  When  finally  it  came  to  a  permanent  stand 
it  was  sitting  with  an  almost  level  floor. 

Then  the  four  corners  heaved  upward,  two  at  a  time, 
and  settled  with  a  final  squeal  of  twisted  boards  and 
nails.  There  was  a  sound  of  confused  trampling,  and 
after  that  the  lessening  sounds  of  departure.  Mr. 
Owens  tried  the  door  again,  and  found  it  still  fast.  He 
relighted  the  lamp,  carried  it  to  the  window  and  looked 
upon  rough  boards  outside  the  glass.  He  meditated 
anxiously  and  decided  to  remain  quiet  until  daylight. 

The  Happy  Family  worked  hard,  that  night.  Be- 
fore daylight  they  were  in  their  beds  and  snoring — » 
except  the  two  who  guarded  the  cattle.  Each  was  in 


A    CHAPTER    IN    EVENTS     155 

his  own  cabin.  His  horse  was  in  his  corral,  smooth- 
coated  and  dry.  There  was  nothing  to  tell  of  the 
night's  happenings, —  nothing  except  the  satisfied  grins 
on  their  faces  when  they  woke  and  remembered. 


CHAPTER  XII 

SHACKS,    LIVE    STOCK    A3O>    PILGRIMS    PROMPTLY 
AND    PAINFULLY    REMOVED 

"  I'm  looking  rather   seedy  now,  while  holding   down   my 

claim, 

And  my  grub  it  isn't  always  served  the  best, 
And  the  mice  play  shyly  round  me  as  I  lay  me  down  to  rest 
In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  on  my  claim. 
Oh,  the  hinges  are  of  leather  and  the  windows  have  no  glass, 
And  the  roof  it  lets  the  howling  blizzards  in, 
And  I  hear  the  hungry  kiote  as  he  sneaks  up  through  the 

grass  — 


!  have  they  got  down  the  hill  yet,  Pink?" 
Pink  took  his  cigarette  from  his  fingers,  leaned 
and  peered  cautiously  through  the  grimy  window. 
"  Unh-huh.  They're  coming  up  the  flat." 

Whereupon  Andy  Green,  ostentatiously  washing  his 
breakfast  dishes,  skipped  two  or  three  verses  and  -lifted 
his  voice  in  song  to  fit  the  occasion. 

"  How  I  wish  that  some  kind-hearted  girl  would  pity  on  me 

take, 

And  relieve  me  of  the  mess  that  I  am  in! 
Oh,  the  angel,  how  I'd  bless  her  if  her  home  with  me  she'd 

make, 
In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  — 


PAINFULLY   REMOVED      157 

"  Got  here  yet  ? "  And  he  craned  his  neck  to  look.. 
"  Aw,  they've  pulled  up,  out  there,  listening !  " 

"  My  clothes  are  plastered  o'er  with  dough,  I'm  looking  like 

a  fright, 
And  everything  is  scattered  round  the  room  — " 

"Why  don't  yuh  stop  that  caterwauling?"  Pink 
demanded  fretfully.  "  You'll  queer  the  whole  play  if 
you  keep  it  up.  They'll  swear  you're  drunk !  " 

There  was  sense  in  that.  Andy  finished  the  line- 
about  remaining  two  happy  lovers  in  his  little  old  sod 
shanty,  and  went  to  the  door  with  the  dishpan.  He 
threw  out  the  water,  squeezed  the  dishrag  in  one  hand 
and  gave  the  inside  of  the  pan  a  swipe  before  he  ap- 
peared to  discover  that  Miss  Allen  and  Florence  Grace 
Hallman  were  riding  up  to  his  door.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  had  seen  them  come  over  the  top  of  the  bluff, 
and  had  long  ago  guessed  who  they  were. 

He  met  them  with  a  smile  of  surprised  innocence, 
and  invited  them  inside.  They  refused  to  come,  and 
even  Miss  Allen  showed  a  certain  reproachful  coolness 
toward  him.  Andy  felt  hurt  at  that,  but  he  did  not 
manifest  the  fact.  Instead  he  informed  them  that  it 
was  a  fine  morning.  And  were  they  out  taking  a  look 
around  ? 

They  were.  They  were  looking  up  the  men  who  had 
perpetrated  the  outrage  last  night  upon  four  settlers. 


158    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Outrage  ?  "  Andy  tilted  the  dishpan  against  the 
cabin  wall,  draped  the  dishrag  over  the  handle  and  went 
forward,  pulling  down  his  sleeves.  "What  outrage 
is  that,  Miss  Hallman  ?  Anybody  killed  ?  " 

Miss  Hallman  watched  him  with  her  narrowed 
glance.  She  saw  the  quick  glance  he  gave  Miss  Allen, 
and  her  lids  narrowed  still  more.  So  that  was  it !  But 
she  did  not  swerve  from  her  purpose,  for  all  this  un- 
expected thrust  straight  to  the  heart  of  her  self-love. 

"  You  know  that  no  one  was  killed.  But  you 
damaged  enough  property  to  place  you  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  law,  Mr.  Green.  Not  one  of  those  shacks 
can  be  gotten  out  of  the  gulch  except  in  pieces !  " 

Andy  smiled  inside  his  soul,  but  his  face  was  be- 
wildered; his  eyes  fixed  themselves  blankly  upon  her 
face.  "  Me  ?  Damaging  property  ?  Miss  Hallman, 
you  don't  know  me  yet !  "  Which  was  perfectly  true. 
"  What  shacks  are  you  talking  about  ?  In  what  gulch  ? 
All  the  shacks  I've  seen  so  far  have  been  stuck  up  on 
bald  pinnacles  where  the  blizzards'll  hit  'em  coming 
and  going  next  winter."  He  glanced  again  at  Miss 
Allen  with  a  certain  sympathetic  foretaste  of  what 
she  would  suffer  next  winter  if  she  stayed  in  her 
,shack. 

"  Don't  try  to  play  innocent,  Mr.  Green."  Flor- 
ence Grace  Hallman  drew  her  brows  together.  "  We 


PAINFULLY    REMOVED 

all  know  perfectly  well  who  dragged  those  shacks  off 
the  claims  last  night." 

"  Don't  you  mean  that  you  think  you  know  ?  I'm 
afraid  you've  kinda  taken  it  for  granted  I'd  be  mixed 
up  in  any  deviltry  you  happened  to  hear  about.  I've 
got  in  bad  with  you  —  I  know  that  —  but  just  the 
same,  I  hate  to  be  accused  of  everything  that  takes 
place  in  the  country.  All  this  is  sure  interesting  news 
to  me.  Whereabouts  was  they  taken  from  ?  And 
when,  and  where  to?  Miss  Allen,  you'll  tell  me  the 
straight  of  this,  won't  you  ?  And  I'll  get  my  hoss  and 
you'll  show  me  what  gulch  she's  talking  about,  won't 
you?" 

Miss  Allen  puckered  her  lips  into  a  pout  which 
meant  indecision,  and  glanced  at  Florence  Grace  Hall- 
man.  And  Miss  Hallman  frowned  at  being  shunted 
into  the  background  and  referred  to  as  she,  and  set  her 
teeth  into  her  lower  lip. 

"  Miss  Allen  prefers  to  choose  her  own  company," 
she  said  with  distinct  rudeness.  "  Don't  try  to  wheedle 
her  —  you  can't  do  it.  And  you  needn't  get  your  horse 
to  ride  anywhere  with  us,  Mr.  Green.  It's  useless.  I 
just  wanted  to  warn  you  that  nothing  like  what  hap- 
pened last  night  will  be  tolerated.  We  know  all  about 
you  Flying  U  men  —  you  Happy  Family."  She  said 
it  as  if  she  were  calling  them  something  perfectly  dis- 


160    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

graceful.  "  You  may  be  just  as  tough  and  bad  as  you 
please  —  you  can't  frighten  anyone  into  leaving  the 
country  or  into  giving  up  one  iota  of  their  rights.  I 
came  to  you  because  you  are  undoubtedly  the  ring- 
leader of  the  gang."  She  accented  gang.  "  You 
ought  to  be  shot  for  what  you  did  last  night.  And  if 
you  keep  on — "  She  left  the  contingency  to  his  im- 
agination. 

"  Well,  if  settling  up  the  country  means  that  men 
are  going  to  be  shot  for  going  to  bed  at  dark  and 
sleeping  till  sun-up,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  that  things 
ain't  like  they  used  to  be.  We  were  all  plumb  peaceful 
here  till  your  colony  came,  Miss  Hallman.  Why,  the 
sheriff  never  got  out  this  way  often  enough  to  know  the 
trails!  He  always  had  to  ask  his  way  around.  If 
your  bunch  of  town  mutts  can't  behave  themselves  and 
leave  each  other  alone,  I  don't  know  what's  to  be  done 
about  it.  We  ain't  hired  to  keep  the  peace." 

"  No,  you've  been  hired  to  steal  all  the  land  you  can, 
and  make  all  the  trouble  you  can.  We  understand  that 
perfectly." 

Andy  shook  his  head  in  meek  denial,  and  with  a 
sudden  impulse  turned  toward  the  cabin.  "  Oh,  Pink !  " 
he  called,  and  brought  that  boyish-faced  young  man  to 
the  door,  his  eyes  as  wide  and  as  pure  as  the  eyes  of  a 
child. 


PAINFULLY   REMOVED      161 

Pink  lifted  his  hat  with  just  the  proper  degree  of 
confusion  to  impress  the  girls  with  his  bashfulness  and 
his  awe  of  their  presence.  His  eyes  were  the  same 
pansy-purple  as  when  the  Flying  U  first  made  tumultu- 
ous acquaintance  with  him.  His  apparent  innocence 
had  completely  fooled  the  Happy  Family,  you  will  re- 
member. They  had  called  him  Mamma's  Little  Lamb 
and  had  composed  poetry  and  horrific,  personal  history 
for  his  benefit.  The  few  years  had  not  changed  him. 
His  hair  was  still  yellow  and  curly.  The  dimples  still 
dodged  into  his  cheeks  unexpectedly ;  he  was  still  much 
like  a  stick  of  dynamite  wrapped  in  white  tissue  and 
tied  with  a  ribbon.  He  looked  an  angel  of  innocence, 
and  in  reality  he  was  a  little  devil. 

Andy  introduced  him,  and  Pink  bowed  and  had  all 
the  appearance  of  blushing  —  though  you  will  have  to 
ask  Pink  how  he  managed  to  create  that  optical  illu- 
sion. "  What  did  you  want  ? "  he  asked  in  his  soft, 
girlish  voice,  turning  to  Andy  bashfully.  But  from  the 
corner  of  his  eye  Pink  saw  that  a  little  smile  of  re- 
membrance had  come  to  soften  Miss  Hallman's  angry 
features,  and  that  the  other  girl  was  smiling  also. 
Pink  hated  that  attitude  of  pleasant  patronage  which 
women  were  so  apt  to  take  toward  him,  but  for  the 
present  it  suited  his  purpose  to  encourage  it. 

"  Pink,  what  time  was  it  when  we  went  to  bed  last 


162    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

night  ?  "  Andy  asked  him  in  the  tone  of  one  who  wished 
to  eliminate  all  doubt  of  his  virtue. 

"  Why  —  it  was  pretty  early.  We  didn't  light  the 
lamp  at  all,  you  remember.  You  went  to  bed  before  I 
did  —  we  couldn't  see  the  c-ards  — "  He  stopped  con- 
fusedly, and  again  he  gave  the  two  women  the  impres- 
sion that  he  blushed.  "We  weren't  playing  for 
money,"  he  hurriedly  explained.  "  Just  for  pastime. 
It's  —  pretty  lonesome  —  sometimes." 

"  Somebody  did  something  to  somebody  last  night," 
Andy  informed  Pink  with  a  resentful  impatience. 
"  Miss  Hallman  thinks  we're  the  guilty  parties  —  me 
in  particular,  because  she  don't  like  me.  It's  something 
about  some  shacks  —  damaging  property,  she  called  it. 
Just  what  was  it  you  said  was  done,  Miss  Hallman  \ " 
He  turned  his  honest,  gray  eyes  toward  her  and  met  her 
suspicious  look  steadily. 

Miss  Hallman  bit  her  lip.  She  had  been  perfectly 
sure  of  the  guilt  of  Andy  Green,  and  of  the  others  who 
were  his  friends.  Now,  in  spite  of  all  reason  she  was 
not  so  sure.  And  there  had  been  nothing  more  tangible 
than  two  pairs  of  innocent-looking  eyes  and  the 
irreproachable  manners  of  two  men  to  change  her  con- 
viction. 

"  Well,  I  naturally  took  it  for  granted  that  you  did 
it,"  she  weakened.  "  The  shacks  were  moved  off 


PAINFULLY    REMOVED       163 

eighties  that  you  have  filed  upon,  Mr.  Green.  Mr. 
Owens  told  me  this  morning  that  you  men  came  by  his 
place  and  threatened  him  yesterday,  and  ordered  him 
to  move.  ~No  one  else  would  have  any  object  in  molest- 
ing him  or  the  others.'7  Her  voice  hardened  again  as 
her  mind  dwelt  upon  the  circumstances.  "  It  must 
have  been  you !  "  she  finished  sharply. 

Whereupon  Pink  gave  her  a  distressed  look  that  made 
Miss  Hallman  flush  unmistakably.  "  I'm  just  about 
distracted,  this  morning/'  she  apologized.  "  I  took  it 
upon  myself  to  see  these  settlers  through  —  and  every- 
body makes  it  just  as  hard  as  possible  for  me.  Why 
should  all  you  fellows  treat  us  the  way  you  do  ? 
We—" 

"  Why,  we  aren't  doing  a  thing !  "  Pink  protested 
diffidently.  "We  thought  we'd  take  up  some  claims 
and  go  to  ranching  for  ourselves,  when  we  got  f-dis- 
charged  from  the  Elying  U.  We  didn't  mean  any 
harm  —  everybody's  taking  up  claims.  We've  bought 
some  cattle  and  we're  going  to  try  and  get  ahead,  like 
other  folks.  We  —  I  wanted  to  cut  out  all  this  wild- 
ness  — " 

"  Are  those  your  cattle  up  on  the  hill  ?  Some  men 
shipped  in  four  carloads  of  young  stock,  yesterday,  to 
Dry  Lake.  They  drove  them  out  here  intending  to  turn 
them  on  the  range,  and  a  couple  of  men  - 


164    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Four  men,"  Miss  Allen  corrected  with  a  furtive 
twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

"  Some  men  refused  to  let  them  cross  that  big  coulee 
back  there.  They  drove  the  cattle  back  toward  Dry 
Lake,  and  told  Mr.  Simmons  and  Mr.  Chase  and  some 
others  that  they  shouldn't  come  on  this  bench  back  here 
at  all.  That  was  another  thing  I  wanted  to  see  you  men 
about." 

"  Maybe  they  were  going  to  mix  their  stock  up  with 
ours,"  Pink  ventured  mildly. 

"  Your  men  shot,  and  shot,  and  shot  —  the  atmos- 
phere up  there  is  shot  so  full  of  holes  that  the  wind 
just  whistles  through !  "  Miss  Allen  informed  them 
gravely,  with  her  eyebrows  all  puckered  together  and 
the  furtive  little  twinkle  in  her  eyes.  "And  they 
yelled  so  that  we  could  hear  them  from  the  house! 
They  made  those  poor  cows  and  those  poor,  weenty 
calves  just  go  trotting  back  across  the  coulee.  My  new 
book  on  farming  says  you  positively  must  not  hurry 
cattle.  It  —  oh,  it  does  something  to  the  butter-fat  — 
joggles  it  all  up  or  something  —  I'll  lend  you  the  book. 
I  found  the  chapter  on  Proper  Treatment  of  Dairy 
Stock,  and  I  watched  those  men  with  the  book  in  my 
hands.  Why,  it  was  terribly  unscientific,  the  way  they 
drove  those  cow-critters !  " 

"  I'll  come  over  and  get  the  book,"  Andy  promised 


PAINFULLY   REMOVED      165 

her,  with  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  displeased  Miss  Hall- 
man  very  much.  "  We're  ashamed  of  our  ignorance. 
We'd  like  to  have  you  learn  us  what's  in  the  book." 

"  I  will.  And  every  week  —  just  think  of  that !  — 
I'm  to  get  a  real  farm  paper." 

"  I'd  like  to  borrow  the  paper  too,7'  Andy  declared 
instantly. 

"  Oh,  and  —  what's  going  to  be  done  about  all  those 
bullet-holes  ?  They  —  they  might  create  a  draught  — 

"  We'll  ride  around  that  way  and  plug  'em  up," 
Andy  assured  her  solemnly.  "  Whenever  you've  got 
time  to  show  me  about  where  they're  at." 

"  It  will  be  a  pleasure.  I  can  tell  where  they  are, 
but  they're  too  high  for  me  to  reach.  Wherever  the 
wind  whistles  there's  a  hole  in  the  atmosphere.  And 
there  are  places  where  the  air  just  quivers,  so  you  can 
see  it.  That  is  the  shock  those  bold,  bad  men  gave  it 
with  the  words  they  used.  They  —  used  —  words, 
Mr.  Green !  If  we  could  scheme  some  way  to  pull  out 
all  those  wrinkles  —  I  do  love  a  nice,  clean,  smooth 
atmosphere  where  I  live.  It's  so  wrinkly  - 

"  I'll  attend  to  all  that,  right  away." 

Miss  Hallman  decided  that  she  had  nothing  further 
to  say  to  Mr.  Green.  She  wheeled  her  horse  rather 
abruptly  and  rode  off  with  a  curt  goodbye.  Miss  Allen, 
being  new  at  the  business  of  handling  a  horse,  took 


166    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

more  time  in  pulling  her  mount  around.  While  her 
back  was  turned  to  Florence  Grace  and  her  face  was 
turned  toward  Pink  and  Andy,  she  gave  them  a  twink- 
ling glance  that  had  one  lowered  eyelid  to  it,  twisted 
her  lips,  and  spoke  sharply  to  her  horse.  They  might 
make  of  it  what  they  would.  Florence  Grace  looked 
back  impatiently  —  perhaps  suspiciously  also  —  and 
saw  Miss  Allen  coming  on  with  docile  haste. 

So  that  ended  the  interview  which  Miss  Hallman  had 
meant  to  be  so  impressive.  A  lot  of  nonsense  that  left 
a  laugh  behind  and  the  idea  that  Miss  Allen  at  least 
did  not  disapprove  of  harassing  claim-jumpers. 
Andy  Green  was  two  hundred  per  cent,  more  cheerful 
after  that,  and  his  brain  was  more  active  and  his 
determination  more  fixed.  For  all  that  he  stared  after 
them  thoughtfully. 

"  She  winked  at  us  —  if  I've  got  eyes  in  my  head. 
What  do  you  reckon  she  meant,  Pink  ?  "  he  asked  when 
the  two  riders  had  climbed  over  the  ridge.  "  And  what 
she  said  about  the  bold,  bad  men  shooting  holes  that 
have  to  be  plugged  up  —  and  about  liking  a  nice,  smooth 
atmosphere  ?  Do  you  suppose  she  meant  that  it's  liable 
to  take  bold,  bad  men  to  clean  the  atmosphere, 
or—  " 

"  What  difference  does  it  make  what  she  meant  ? 
There's  jumpers  left  —  two  on  Bud's  place  —  and  he's 


PAINFULLY   REMOVED       167 

oary-eyed  over  it,  and  was  going  to  read  'em  the  riot 
act  proper,  when  I  left  to  come  over  here.  And  a 
couple  of  men  drove  onto  that  south  eighty  of  Migfs, 
with  a  load  of  lumber,  just  as  I  come  by.  Looks  to  me 
like  we've  got  our  hands  full,  Andy.  There'll  be  holes 
to  plug  up  somewhere  besides  in  the  atmosphere,  if  you 
ask  me." 

"  Long  as  they  don't  get  anything  on  us  I  ain't  in 
the  state  of  mind  where  I  give  a  darn.  That  little 
brown-eyed  Susan'll  keep  us  posted  if  they  start  any- 
thing new  —  what  did  she  mean  by  that  wink,  do  you 
reckon  ?  " 

"  Ah,  don't  get  softening  of  the  emotions,"  Pink 
advised  impatiently.  "  That's  the  worst  thing  we've 
got  to  steer  clear  of,  Andy!  All  them  women  in  the 
game  is  going  to  make  it  four  times  as  hard  to  stand 
'em  off.  Irish  is  foolish  over  this  one  you're  getting 
stuck  on  —  you'll  be  fighting  each  other,  if  you  don't 
look  out.  That  Florence  Grace  lady  ain't  so  slow  — 
she's  going  to  use  the  women  to  keep  us  fellows  guess- 
ing." 

Andy  sighed.  "  We  can  block  that  play,  of  course," 
he  said.  "  Come  on,  Pink.  Let's  go  round  up  the  boys 
and  see  what's  been  taking  place  with  them  cattle. 
Shipped  in  four  carloads  already,  have  they  ?  "  He 
began  pulling  on  his  chaps  rather  hurriedly.  "  Worst 


168    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

of  it  is,  you  can't  stampede  a  bunch  of  darned  tame 
cows,  either/'  he  complained. 

They  found  Irish  and  the  Native  Son  on  day-herd, 
with  the  cattle  scattered  well  along  the  western  line  of 
the  claims.  Big  Medicine,  Weary,  Cal  Emmett  and 
Jack  Bates  were  just  returning  from  driving  the  settlers' 
stock  well  across  Antelope  Coulee  which  had  been  de- 
cided upon  as  a  hypothetical  boundary  line  until  such 
time  as  a  fence  could  be  built. 

They  talked  with  the  day-herders,  and  they  talked 
with  the  other  four.  Chip  came  up  from  the  ranch 
with  the  Kid  riding  proudly  beside  him  on  Silver,  and 
told  them  that  the  Honorable  Mr.  Blake  was  at  the 
Flying  TJ  and  had  sent  word  that  he  would  be  pleased 
to  take  the  legal  end  of  the  fight,  if  the  Happy  Family 
so  desired.  Which  was  in  itself  a  vast  encouragement. 
The  Honorable  Blake  had  said  that  they  were  well 
within  their  rights  thus  far,  and  advised  them  to  per- 
mit service  of  the  contest  notices,  and  to  go  calmly 
on  fulfilling  the  law.  Which  was  all  very  well  as  far 
as  it  went,  providing  they  were  permitted  to  go  on 
calmly. 

"  What  about  them  cattle  they're  trying  to  git  across 
our  land  2  "  Slim  wanted  to  know.  "  We  got  a  right 
to  keep  'em  off,  ain't  we  ?  " 

Chip  said  that  he  thought  they  had,  but  to  make  sure, 


PAINFULLY    REMOVED 

he  would  ask  the  Honorable  Blake.  Trespassing,  he 
said,  might  he  avoided  — 

Eight  there  Andy  was  seized  with  an  idea.  He  took 
Chip  —  hecause  of  his  artistic  talents  which,  he  said, 
had  been  plumb  wasted  lately  —  to  one  side.  After- 
wards they  departed  in  haste,  with  Pink  and  Weary 
galloping  close  at  their  heels.  In  a  couple  of  hours 
they  returned  to  the  boundary  where  the  cattle  still  fed 
all  scattered  out  in  a  long  line,  and  behind  them  drove 
Pink  and  Weary  in  the  one  wagon  which  the  Family 
possessed. 

"  It  oughta  help  some,"  grinned  Andy,  when  the 
Native  Son  came  curiously  over  to  see  what  it  was  they 
were  erecting  there  on  the  prairie.  "  It's  a  fair  warn- 
ing, and  shows  'em  where  to  head  in  at." 

The  Native  Son  read  the  sign,  which  was  three  feet 
long  and  stood  nailed  to  two  posts  ready  for  planting 
solidly  in  the  earth.  He  showed  his  even,  white  teeth 
in  a  smile  of  approval.  "  Back  it  up,  and  it  ought  to 
do  some  good,"  he  said. 

They  dug  holes  and  set  the  posts,  and  drove  on  to 
where  they  meant  to  plant  another  sign  exactly  like  the 
first.  That  day  they  planted  twelve  sign-boards  along 
their  west  line.  They  might  not  do  any  good,  but  they 
were  a  fair  warning,  and  as  such  were  worth  the  trouble. 

That  afternoon  Andy  was  riding  back  along  the  line 


170    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

when  he  saw  a  rider  pull  up  at  the  first  sign  and  read 
it  carefully.  He  galloped  in  haste  to  the  spot  and 
found  that  his  suspicions  were  correct;  it  was  Miss 
Allen. 

"  Well,"  she  said  when  he  came  near,  "  I  suppose  that 
means  me.  Does  it  ?  "  She  pointed  to  the  sign,  which 
read  like  this : 

WARNING  !   ! 
NO  TRESPASSING  EAST  OF  HERE 

All  Shacks,  Live-Stock  and  Pilgrims  Promptly 

AND 
Painfully  Removed  From  These  Premises 

"Pm  over  the  line,"  she  notified  him,  pulling  her 
horse  backward  a  few  feet.  "  You're  getting  awfully 
particular,  seems  to  me.  Oh,  did  you  know  that  a  lot 
of  men  are  going  to  play  it's  New  Year's  Eve  and  hold 
watch  meetings  tonight  ?  " 

"  Never  heard  a  word  about  it,"  he  declared  truth- 
fully, and  waited  for  more. 

"  That's  not  strange  —  seeing  it's  a  surprise  party. 
Still  —  I'm  sure  you  are  expected  to  —  attend." 

"  And  where  is  all  this  to  take  place  ?  "  Andy  looked 
at  her  intently,  smiling  a  little. 

"  Oh,   over  there  —  and  there  —  and  there."     She 


PAINFULLY   REMOVED      171 

pointed  to  three  new  shacks  —  the  official  dwellings  of 
certain  contestants.  "  Stag  parties,  they  are,  I  be- 
lieve. But  I  doubt  if  they'll  have  any  very  exciting 
time ;  most  of  these  new  settlers  are  too  busy  getting  the 
ground  ready  for  crops,  to  go  to  parties.  Some  people 
are  pretty  disgusted,  I  can  tell  you,  Mr.  Green.  Some 
people  talk  about  ingratitude  and  wonder  why  the 
colony  doesn't  hang  together  better.  Some  people  even 
wonder  why  it  is  that  folks  are  interested  mainly  in 
their  own  affairs,  and  decline  to  attend  watch  meetings 
and  —  receptions.  So  I'm  afraid  very  few,  except  your 
nearest  neighbors,  will  be  present,  after  all.  Might  I 
ask  when  you  expect  to  —  to  move  again,  Mr.  Green  ?  " 

Smiling  still,  Andy  shook  his  head.  "  I  expect  to 
be  pretty  busy  this  spring,"  he  told  her  evasively. 
"  Aren't  any  of  you  ladies  invited  to  those  parties, 
Miss  Allen  ? " 

"  Not  a  one.  Eut  let  me  tell  you  something,  Mr. 
Green.  Some  folks  think  that  perhaps  we  lady-settlers 
ought  to  organize  a  club  for  the  well  being  of  our  — 
our  intellects.  Some  folks  are  trying  to  get  up  parties 
just  for  women  —  see  the  point  ?  They  think  it  would 
be  better  for  the  —  atmosphere." 

"  Oh."  Andy  studied  the  possibilities  of  such  a 
move.  If  Florence  Grace  should  set  the  women  after 
them,  he  could  see  how  the  Happy  Family  would  be 


172    FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

hampered  at  every  turn.  "  Well,  I  must  be  going.  Say, 
did  you  know  this  country  is  full  of  wild  animals,  Miss 
Allen?  They  prowl  around  nights.  And  there's  a 
gang  of  wild  men  that  hang  out  up  there  in  those  moun- 
tains—  they  prowl  around  nights,  too.  They're  out- 
laws. They  kill  off  every  sheriffs  party  that  tries  to 
round  them  up,  and  they  kidnap  children  and  ladies. 
If  you  should  hear  any  disturbance,  any  time,  don't 
be  scared.  Just  stay  inside  after  dark  and  keep  your 
door  locked.  And  if  you  should  organize  that  ladies' 
club,  you  better  hold  your  meetings  in  the  afternoon, 
don't  you  think  ?  " 

When  he  had  ridden  on  and  left  her,  Andy  was  some- 
what ashamed  of  such  puerile  falsehoods.  But  then, 
she  had  started  the  allegorical  method  of  imparting  ad- 
vice, he  remembered.  So  presently  he  went  whistling 
to  round  up  the  boys  and  tell  them  what  he  had  learned 
and  what  he  merely  suspected. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IEISH    WORKS  FOE,    THE    CAUSE 

BIG  MEDICINE  with  Weary  and  Chip  to  bear 
him  company,  rode  up  to  the  shack  nearest  his 
own,  which  had  been  hastily  built  by  a  raw-boned  Dane 
who  might  be  called  truly  Americanized.  Big  Medi- 
cine did  not  waste  time  in  superfluities  or  in  making 
threats  of  what  he  meant  to  do.  He  called  the  Dane  to 
the  door  —  claim-jumpers  were  keeping  close  to  their 
cabins,  these  days  —  and  told  him  that  he  was  on  an- 
other man's  land,  and  asked  him  if  he  meant  to  move. 

"  Sure  I  don't  intend  to  move !  "  retorted  the  Dane 
with  praiseworthy  promptness.  "  I'm  going  to  hold 
'er  down  solid." 

"Yuh  hear  what  he  says,  boys."  Big  Medicine 
turned  to  his  companions.  "  He  ain't  going  to  git  off'n 
my  land,  he  says.  Weary,  yuh  better  go  tell  the  bunch 
I  need  'em." 

Weary  immediately  departed.  He  was  not  gone  so 
very  long,  and  when  he  returned  the  Happy  Family  was 
with  him,  even  to  Patsy  who  drove  the  wagon  with  all 
the  ease  of  a  veteran  of  many  roundups.  The  Dane 


174    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

tried  bluster,  but  that  did  not  seem  to  work.  Nothing 
seemed  to  work,  except  the  Happy  Family. 

There  in  broad  daylight,  with  no  more  words  than 
were  needful,  they  moved  the  Dane,  and  his  shack. 
When  they  began  to  raise  the  building  he  was  so  unwise 
as  to  flourish  a  gun,  and  thereby  made  it  perfectly  right 
and  lawful  that  Big  Medicine  should  take  the  gun  away 
from  him  and  march  him  ahead  of  his  own  forty-five. 

They  took  the  shack  directly  past  one  of  the  trespass- 
ing signs,  and  Big  Medicine  stopped  accommodatingly 
while  the  Dane  was  permitted  to  read  the  sign  three 
times  aloud.  That  the  Dane  did  not  seem  truly  appre- 
ciative of  the  privilege  was  no  fault  of  Big  Medicine's, 
surely.  They  went  on,  skidding  the  little  building  sled- 
like  over  the  uneven  prairie.  They  took  it  down  into 
Antelope  Coulee  and  left  it  there,  right  side  up  and 
with  not  even  a  pane  of  glass  broken  in  the  window. 

"  There,  darn  yuh,  live  there  awhile !  "  Andy  gritted 
to  the  Dane,  when  the  timbers  were  withdrawn  from 
beneath  the  cabin  and  they  were  ready  to  leave?  "  You 
can't  say  we  damaged  your  property  —  this  time. 
Come  back,  and  there's  no  telling  what  we're  liable  to 
do." 

Since  Big  Medicine  kept  his  gun,  the  Dane  could  do 
nothing  but  swear  while  he  watched  them  ride  up  the 
hill  and  out  of  sight. 


WORKS    FOR   THE    CAUSE    175 

They  made  straight  for  the  next  interloper,  remark- 
ing frequently  that  it  was  much  simpler  and  easier  to 
do  their  moving  in  daylight.  There  they  had  an  audi- 
ence, for  Florence  Grace  rode  furiously  up  just  as  they 
were  getting  under  way.  The  Happy  Family  spoke 
very  nicely  to  Florence  Grace,  and  when  she  spoke  very 
sharply  to  them  they  were  discreetly  hard  of  hearing 
and  became  absorbed  in  their  work. 

Several  settlers  came  before  that  shack  was  moved, 
but  they  only  stood  around  and  talked  among  them- 
selves, and  were  careful  not  to  get  in  the  way  or  to 
hinder,  and  to  lower  their  voices  so  that  the  Happy 
Family  need  not  hear  unless  they  chose  to  listen. 

So  they  slid  that  shack  into  the  coulee,  righted  it 
carefully  and  left  it  there  —  where  it  would  be  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  to  get  it  out,  by  the  way;  since  it  is 
much  easier  to  drag  a  building  down  hill  than  up,  and 
the  steeper  the  hill  and  the  higher,  the  greater  the 
difference. 

They  loaded  the  timbers  into  the  wagon  and  moved 
methodically  on  to  the  next  shack,  their  audience  in- 
creased to  a  couple  of  dozen  perturbed  settlers.  The 
owner  of  this  particular  shack,  feeling  the  strength  of 
numbers  behind  him,  was  disposed  to  argue  the  point. 

"  Oh,  you'll  sweat  for  this !  "  he  shouted  impotently, 
when  the  Happy  Family  was  placing  the  timbers. 


176    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Ah,  git  outa  tlie  way !  "  said  Andy,  coining  toward 
liim  with  a  crowbar.  "  We're  sweating  now,  if  that 
makes  yuh  feel  any  better." 

The  man  got  out  of  the  way,  and  went  and  stood 
with  the  group  of  onlookers,  and  talked  vaguely  of 
having  the  law  on  them  —  whatever  he  meant  by  that. 

By  the  time  they  had  placed  the  third  shack  in  the 
bottom  of  the  coulee,  the  sun  was  setting.  They 
dragged  the  timbers  up  the  steep  bluff  with  their  ropes 
and  their  saddle-horses,  loaded  them  on  to  the  wagon 
and  threw  the  crowbars  and  rolling  timbers  in,  and 
turned  to  look  curiously  and  unashamed  at  their 
audience.  Andy,  still  tacitly  their  leader,  rode  a  few 
steps  forward. 

"  That'll  be  all  today,"  he  announced  politely. 
""  Except  that  load  of  lumber  back  here  on  the  bench 
where  it  don't  belong  —  we  aim  to  haul  that  over  the 
line.  Seeing  you're  taking  considerable  interest  in 
our  affairs,  I'll  just  say  that  we  filed  on  our  claims  ac- 
cording to  law,  and  we're  living  on  'em  according  to  law. 
Till  somebody  proves  in  court  that  we're  not,  there 
don't  any  shack,  or  any  stock,  stay  on  our  side  the  line 
any  longer  than  it  takes  to  get  them  off.  There's  the 
signs,  folks  —  read  ?em  and  take  ?em  to  heart.  You 
can  go  home  now.  The  show's  over." 

He  lifted  his  hat  to  the  women  —  and  there  were 


WORKS    FOR   THE    CAUSE    177 

several  now  —  and  went  away  to  join  his  fellows,  who 
had  ridden  on  slowly  till  he  might  overtake  them. 
He  found  Happy  Jack  grumbling  and  predicting  evil, 
as  it  was  his  nature  to  do,  but  he  merely  straightened 
his  aching  back  and  laughed  at  the  prophecies. 

"  As  I  told  you  before,  there's  more  than  one  way  to 
kill  a  cat,"  he  asserted  tritely  but  never  the  less  im- 
pressively. "  Nobody  can  say  we  wasn't  mild ;  and 
nobody  can  say  we  hadn't  a  right  to  get  those  chicken- 
coops  off  our  land.  If  you  ask  me,  Florence  Grace 
will  have  to  go  some  now  if  she  gets  the  best  of  the  deal. 
She  overlooked  a  bet.  We  haven't  been  served  with 
any  contest  notices  yet,  and  so  we  ain't  obliged  to  take 
their  say-so.  Who's  going  to  stand  guard  tonight  ? 
We've  got  to  stand  our  regular  shifts,  if  we  want  to 
keep  ahead  of  the  game.  I'm  willing  to  be  It.  I'd 
like  to  make  sure  they  don't  slip  any  stock  across  before 
daylight." 

"  Say,  it's  lucky  we've  got  a  bunch  of  boneheads  like 
them  to  handle,"  Pink  observed  thankfully.  "  Would 
a  bunch  of  natives  have  stood  around  like  that  with 
their  hands  in  their  pockets  and  let  us  get  away  with 
the  moving  job?  Not  so  you  could  notice!  " 

"  What  we'd  better  do,"  cut  in  the  Native  Son  with- 
out any  misleading  drawl,  "  is  try  and  rustle  enough 
money  to  build  that  fence." 


178    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"That's  right,"  assented  Cal.  "Maybe  the  Old 
Man—" 

"  We  don't  go  to  the  Old  Man  for  so  much  as  a  bacon 
rind !  "  cried  the  Native  Son  impatiently.  "  Get  it 
into  your  systems,  boys,  that  we've  got  to  ride  away 
around  the  Flying  U.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  build 
that  fence,  all  right,  without  help  from  anybody. 
Till  we  do  we've  got  to  hang  and  rattle,  and  keep  that 
nester  stock  from  getting  past  us.  I'll  stand  guard 
till  midnight." 

A  little  more  talk,  and  some  bickering  with  Slim 
and  Happy  Jack,  the  two  chronic  kickers,  served  to 
knock  together  a  fair  working  organization.  Weary 
and  Andy  Green  were  informally  chosen  joint  leaders, 
because  Weary  could  be  depended  upon  to  furnish 
the  mental  ballast  for  Andy's  imagination.  Patsy  was 
told  that  he  would  have  to  cook  for  the  outfit,  since  he 
was  too  fat  to  ride.  They  suggested  that  he  begin  at 
once,  by  knocking  together  some  sort  of  supper.  Mov- 
ing houses,  they  declared,  was  work.  They  frankly 
hoped  that  they  would  not  have  to  move  many  more 
—  and  they  were  very  positive  that  they  would  not 
be  compelled  to  move  the  same  shack  twice,  at  any  rate. 

"  Say,  we'll  have  quite  a  collection  of  shacks  down 
in  Antelope  Coulee  if  we  keep  on,"  Jack  Bates  re- 
minded them.  "  Wonder  where  they'll  get  water  ?  " 


WORKS    FOR    THE    CAUSE     179 

"  Where's  the  rest  of  them  going  to  get  water  ?  " 
Cal  Emmett  challenged  the  crowd.  "  There's  that 
spring  the  four  women  up  here  pack  water  from  — 
but  that  goes  dry  in  August.  And  there's  the  creek 
—  that  goes  dry  too.  On  the  dead,  I  feel  sorry  for 
the  women  —  and  so  does  Irish,"  he  added  drily. 

Irish  made  an  uncivil  retort  and  swung  suddenly 
away  from  the  group.  "  I'm  going  to  ride  into  town, 
boys,"  he  announced  curtly.  "  I'll  be  back  in  the 
morning  and  go  on  day-herd." 

"  Maybe  you  will  and  maybe  you  won't,"  Weary 
amended  somewhat  impatiently.  "  This  is  certainly  a 
poor  time  for  Irish  to  break  out,"  he  added,  watching  his 
double  go  galloping  toward  the  town  road. 

"  I  betche  he  comes  back  full  and  tries  to  clean  out 
all  them  nesters,"  Happy  Jack  predicted.  For  once 
no  one  tried  to  combat  his  pessimism  —  for  that  was  ex- 
actly what  every  one  of  them  believed  would  happen. 

"  He's  stayed  sober  a  long  while  —  for  him,"  sighed 
Weary,  who  never  could  quite  shake  off  a  sense  of 
responsibility  for  the  moral  defections  of  his  kinsman. 
"  Maybe  I  better  go  along  and  ride  herd  on  him." 
Still,  he  did  not  go,  and  Irish  presently  merged  into 
the  dusky  distance. 

As  is  often  the  case  with  a  family's  black  sheep, 
his  intentions  were  the  best,  even  though  they  might 


180    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

have  been  considered  unorthodox.  While  the  Happy 
Family  took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  gone  because 
an  old  thirst  awoke  within  him,  Irish  was  thinking 
only  of  the  welfare  of  the  outfit.  He  did  not  tell  them, 
because  he  was  the  sort  who  does  not  prattle  of  his  in- 
tentions, one  way  or  the  other.  If  he  did  what  he 
meant  to  do  there  would  be  time  enough  to  explain; 
if  he  failed  there  was  nothing  to  be  said. 

Irish  had  thought  a  good  deal  about  the  building 
of  that  fence,  and  about  the  problem  of  paying  for 
enough  wire  and  posts  to  run  the  fence  straight  through 
from  Meeker' s  south  line  to  the  north  line  of  the  Fly- 
ing U.  He  had  figured  the  price  of  posts  and  the 
price  of  wire  and  had  come  somewhere  near  the  ap- 
proximate cost  of  the  undertaking.  He  was  not  at  all 
sure  that  the  Happy  Family  had  faced  the  actual  figures 
on  that  proposition.  They  had  remarked  vaguely  that 
it  was  going  to  cost  some  money.  They  had  made 
casual  remarks  about  being  broke  personally  and,  so 
far  as  they  knew,  permanently. 

Irish  was  hot-headed  and  impulsive  to  a  degree.  He 
was  given  to  occasional  tumultuous  sprees,  during  which 
he  was  to  be  handled  with  extreme  care  —  or,  better 
still,  left  entirely  alone  until  the  spell  was  over.  He 
looked  almost  exactly  like  Weary,  and  yet  he  was  al- 
most his  opposite  in  disposition.  Weary  was  opti- 


WORKS    FOR   THE    CAUSE    181 

mistic,  peace-loving,  steady  as  the  sun  above  him  except 
for  a  little  surface-bubbling  of  fun  that  kept  him 
sunny  through  storm  and  calm.  You  could  walk  all 
over  Weary  —  figuratively  speaking  —  before  he  would 
show  resentment.  You  could  not  step  very  close  to 
Irish  without  running  the  risk  of  consequences.  That 
he  should,  under  all  that,  have  a  streak  of  calculating, 
hard-headed  business  sense,  did  not  occur  to  them. 

They  rode  on,  discussing  the  present  situation  and 
how  best  to  meet  it;  the  contingencies  of  the  future, 
and  how  best  to  circumvent  the  active  antagonism  of 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  and  the  colony  for  which  she 
stood  sponsor.  They  did  not  dream  that  Irish  was 
giving  his  whole  mind  to  solving  the  problem  of  rais- 
ing money  to  build  that  fence,  but  that  is  exactly  what 
he  was  doing. 

Some  of  you  at  least  are  going  to  object  to  his 
method.  Some  of  you  —  those  of  you  who  live  west 
of  the  big  river  —  are  going  to  understand  his  point 
of  view,  and  you  will  recognize  his  method  as  being 
perfectly  logical,  simple,  and  altogether  natural  to  a 
man  of  his  temperament  and  manner  of  life.  It  is 
for  you  that  I  am  going  to  relate  his  experiences. 
Sheltered  readers,  readers  who  have  never  faced  life 
in  the  raw,  readers  who  sit  down  on  Sunday  mornings 
with  a  mind  purged  of  worldly  thoughts  and  commit 


182    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

to  memory  a  "  golden  text "  which  they  forget  before 
another  Sunday  morning,  should  skip  the  rest  of  this 
chapter  for  the  good  of  their  morals.  The  rest  is  for 
you  men  who  have  kicked  up  alkali  dust  and  after- 
wards washed  out  the  memory  in  town ;  who  have  gone 
broke  between  starlight  and  sun;  who  know  the  ways 
of  punchers  the  West  over,  and  can  at  least  sympathize 
with  Irish  in  what  he  meant  to  do  that  night. 

Irish  had  been  easing  down  a  corner  of  the  last 
shack,  with  his  back  turned  toward  three  men  who 
stood  looking  on  with  the  detached  interest  which 
proved  they  did  not  own  this  particular  shack.  One 
was  H.  J.  Owens  —  I  don't  think  you  have  met  the 
others.  Irish  had  not.  He  had  overheard  this  scrap 
of  conversation  while  he  worked : 

"  Going  to  town  tonight  ?  " 

"  Guess  so  —  I  sure  ain't  going  to  hang  out  on  this 
prairie  any  more  than  I  have  to.  You  going  ?  " 

"  Ye-es  —  I  think  I  will.  I  hear  there's  been  some 
pretty  swift  games  going,  the  last  night  or  two.  A 
fellow  in  that  last  bunch  Florence  rounded  up  made 
quite  a  clean  up  last  night." 

"  That  so.  Let's  go  on  in.  This  claim-holding  gets 
my  goat  anyway.  I  don't  see  where — " 

That  was  all  Irish  heard,  but  that  was  enough. 
Had  he  turned  in  time  to  catch  the  wink  that  one 


WORKS    FOR   THE    CAUSE    183 

speaker  gave  to  the  other,  and  the  sardonic  grin  that  an- 
swered the  lowered  eyelid,  he  would  have  had  the  scrap 
of  conversation  properly  focussed  in  his  mind,  and 
would  not  have  swallowed  the  bait  as  greedily  as  he  did. 
But  we  all  make  mistakes.  Irish  made  the  mistake 
of  underestimating  the  cunning  of  his  enemies. 

So  here  he  was,  kicking  up  the  dust  on  the  town 
trail  just  as  those  three  intended  that  he  should  do, 
But  that  he  rode  alone  instead  of  in  the  midst  of  his 
fellows  was  not  what  the  three  had  intended ;  and  that 
he  rode  with  the  interest  of  his  friends  foremost  in 
his  mind  was  also  an  unforeseen  element  in  the  scheme. 

Irish  did  not  see  H.  J.  Owens  anywhere  in  town  — 
nor  did  he  see  either  of  the  two  men  who  had  stood 
behind  him.  But  there  was  a  poker  game  running  in 
Rusty  Brown's  back  room,  and  Irish  immediately  sat 
in  without  further  investigation.  Bert  Rogers  was 
standing  behind  one  of  the  players,  and  gave  Irish  a 
nod  and  a  wink  which  may  have  had  many  meanings. 
Irish  interpreted  it  as  encouragement  to  sail  in  and 
clean  up  the  bunch. 

There  was  money  enough  in  sight  to  build  that  fence 
when  he  sat  down.  Irish  pulled  his  hat  farther  over 
his  eyebrows,  rolled  and  lighted  a  cigarette  while  he 
waited  for  that  particular  jackpot  to  be  taken,  and 
covertly  sized  up  the  players. 


184     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

Every  one  of  them  was  strange  to  him.  But  then, 
the  town  was  full  of  strangers  since  Florence  Grace 
and  her  Syndicate  began  to  reap  a  harvest  off  the  open 
country,  so  Irish  merely  studied  the  faces  casually, 
as  a  matter  of  habit.  They  were  nesters,  of  course  — 
real  or  prospective.  They  seemed  to  have  plenty  of 
money  —  and  it  was  eminently  fitting  that  the  Happy 
Family's  fence  should  be  built  with  nester  money. 

Irish  had  in  his  pockets  exactly  eighteen  dollars  and 
fifty-cents.  He  bought  eighteen  dollars'  worth  of 
chips  and  began  to  play.  Privately  he  preferred  stud 
poker  to  draw,  but  he  was  not  going  to  propose  a  change ; 
he  felt  perfectly  qualified  to  beat  any  three  pilgrims 
that  ever  came  West. 

Four  hands  he  played  and  lost  four  dollars.  He 
drank  a  glass  of  beer  then,  made  himself  another  ciga- 
rette and  settled  down  to  business,  feeling  that  he  had 
but  just  begun.  After  the  fifth  hand  he  looked  up  and 
caught  again  the  eye  of  Bert  Rogers.  Bert  pulled  his 
eyebrows  together  in  a  warning  look,  and  Irish  thought 
better  of  staying  that  hand.  He  did  not  look  at  Bert 
after  that,  but  he  did  watch  the  other  players  more 
closely. 

After  awhile  Bert  wandered  away,  his  interest  dull- 
ing when  he  saw  that  Irish  was  holding  his  own  and  a 
little  better.  Irish  played  on,  conservative  to  such  a  de- 


WORKS    FOR    THE    CAUSE     185 

gree  that  in  two  hours  he  had  not  won  more  than  fifteen 
dollars.  The  Happy  Family  would  have  been  surprised 
to  see  him  lay  down  kings  and  refuse  to  draw  to  them 
—  which  he  did  once,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust  that 
flipped  them  face  up  so  that  all  could  see.  He  turned 
them  over  immediately,  but  the  three  had  seen  that  this 
tall  stranger,  who  had  all  the  earmarks  of  a  cowpuncher, 
would  not  draw  to  kings  but  must  have  something  better 
before  he  would  stay. 

So  they  played  until  the  crowd  thinned ;  until  Irish, 
by  betting  safely  and  sticking  to  a  caution  that  must 
have  cost  him  a  good  deal  in  the  way  of  self-restraint, 
had  sixty  dollars'  worth  of  chips  piled  in  front  of  him. 

Some  men,  playing  for  a  definite  purpose,  would  have 
quit  at  that.  Irish  did  not  quit,  however.  He  wanted 
a  certain  sum  from  these  nesters.  He  had  come  to 
town  expecting  to  win  a  certain  sum  from  them.  He 
intended  to  play  until  he  got  it  or  went  broke.  He  was 
not  using  any  trickery  —  and  he  had  stopped  one  man 
in  the  middle  of  a  deal,  with  a  certain  look  in  his  eye  re- 
marking that  he'd  rather  have  the  top  card  than  the  bot- 
tom one,  so  that  he  was  satisfied  they  were  not  trying 
to  cheat. 

There  came  a  deal  when  Irish  looked  at  his  cards, 
sent  a  slanting  look  at  the  others  and  laid  down  his 
five  cards  with  a  long  breath.  He  raised  the  ante  four 


186    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

blue  ones  and  rolled  and  lit  a  cigarette  while  the  three 
had  drawn  what  cards  they  thought  they  needed.  The 
man  at  Irish's  left  had  drawn  only  one  card.  Now  he 
hesitated  and  then  bet  with  some  assurance.  Irish 
smoked  imperturbably  while  the  other  two  came  in,  and 
then  he  raised  the  bet  three  stacks  of  blues.  His  neigh- 
bor raised  him  one  stack,  and  the  next  man  hesitated 
and  then  laid  down  his  cards.  The  third  man  medi- 
tated for  a  minute  and  raised  the  bet  ten  dollars.  Irish 
blew  forth  a  leisurely  smoke  wreath  and  with  a  sweep 
of  his  hand  sent  in  all  his  chips. 

There  was  a  silent  minute,  wherein  Irish  smoked  and 
drummed  absently  upon  the  table  with  his  fingers  that 
were  free.  His  neighbor  frowned,  grunted  and  threw 
down  his  hand.  The  third  man  did  the  same.  Irish 
made  another  sweep  of  his  hand  and  raked  the  table 
clean  of  chips. 

"  That'll  do  for  tonight,"  he  remarked  drily.  "  I 
don't  like  to  be  a  hog." 

Had  that  ended  the  incident,  sensitive  readers  might 
still  read  and  think  well  of  Irish.  But  one  of  the 
players  was  not  quite  sober,  and  he  was  a  poor  loser  and 
a  pugnacious  individual  anyway,  with  a  square  face 
and  a  thick  neck  that  went  straight  up  to  the  top 
of  his  head.  His  underlip  pushed  out,  and  when  Irish 
turned  away  to  cash  in  his  chips,  this  pugnacious  one 


WORKS    FOR    THE    CAUSE     187 

reached  over  and  took  a  look  at  the  cards  Irish  had 
held. 

It  certainly  was  as  rotten  a  hand  as  a  man  could 
hold.  Suits  all  mixed,  and  not  a  face  card  or  a  pair 
in  the  lot.  The  pugnacious  player  had  held  a  king- 
high  straight,  and  he  had  stayed  until  Irish  sent  in  all 
his  chips.  He  gave  a  bellow  and  jumped  up  and  hit 
Irish  a  glancing  blow  back  of  the  ear. 

Let  us  not  go  into  details.  You  know  Irish  —  or 
you  should  know  him  by  this  time.  A  man  who  will 
get  away  with  a  bluff  like  that  should  be  left  alone  or 
brained  in  the  beginning  of  the  fight  —  especially  when 
he  can  look  down  on  the  hair  of  a  six-foot  man,  and  has 
muscles  hardened  by  outdoor  living.  When  the  dust 
settled,  two  chairs  were  broken  and  some  glasses  swept 
off  the  bar  by  heaving  bodies,  and  two  of  the  three 
players  had  forgotten  their  troubles.  The  third  was 
trying  to  find  the  knob  on  the  back  door,  and  could  not 
because  of  the  buzzing  in  his  head  and  the  blood  in  his 
eyes.  Irish  had  welts  and  two  broken  knuckles  and  a 
clear  conscience,  and  he  was  so  mad  he  almost  wound 
up  by  thrashing  Eusty,  who  had  stayed  behind  the  bar 
and  taken  no  hand  in  the  fight.  Rusty  complained  be- 
cause of  the  damage  to  his  property,  and  Irish,  being 
the  only  one  present  in  a  condition  to  listen,  took  the 
complaint  as  a  personal  insult. 


188     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

He  counted  his  money  to  make  sure  he  had  it  all, 
evened  the  edges  of  the  package  of  bank  notes  and 
thrust  the  package  into  his  pocket.  If  Eusty  had  kept 
his  face  closed  about  those  few  glasses  and  those  chairs, 
he  would  have  left  a  "  bill "  on  the  bar  to  pay  for 
them,  even  though  he  did  need  every  cent  of  that 
money.  He  told  Eusty  this,  and  he  accused  him  of 
standing  in  with  the  nesters  and  turning  down  the 
men  who  had  helped  him  make  money,  all  these  years. 

"Why,  darn  your  soul,  I've  spent  money  enough 
over  this  bar  to  buy  out  the  whole  damn'  joint,  and  you 
know  it !  "  he  cried  indignantly.  "  If  you  think  you've 
got  to  collect  damages,  take  it  outa  these  blinkety-blink 
pilgrims  you  think  so  much  of.  Speak  to  'em  pleasant, 
though,  or  you're  liable  to  lose  the  price  of  a  beer, 
maybe!  They'll  never  bring  you  the  money  we've 
brought  you,  you  — r 

"  They  won't  because  you've  likely  killed  'em  both," 
Eusty  retorted  angrily.  "  You  want  to  remember  you 
can't  come  into  town  and  rip  things  up  the  back  the  way 
you  used  to,  and  nobody  say  a  word.  You  better  drift, 
before  that  feller  that  went  out  comes  back  with  an 
officer.  You  can't — " 

"  Officer  be  damned !  "  retorted  Irish,  unawed. 

He  went  out  while  Eusty  was  deciding  to  order  him 
out,  and  started  for  the  stable.  Halfway  there  he 


WORKS    FOR   THE    CAUSE     189 

ducked  into  the  shadow  of  the  blacksmith  shop  and 
watched  two  men  go  up  the  street  to  Rusty 's  place, 
walking  quickly.  He  went  on  then,  got  his  horse  hur- 
riedly without  waiting  to  cinch  the  saddle,  led  him  be- 
hind the  blacksmith  shop  where  he  would  not  be  likely 
to  be  found,  and  tied  him  there  to  the  wreck  of  a  freight 
wagon. 

Then  he  went  across  lots  to  where  Fred  Wilson,  man- 
ager of  the  general  store,  slept  in  a  two-room  shack 
belonging  to  the  hotel.  The  door  was  locked  —  Ered  be- 
ing a  small  man  with  little  trust  in  Providence  or  in  his 
own  physical  prowess  —  and  so  he  rapped  cautiously 
upon  the  window  until  Fred  awoke  and  wanted  to 
know  who  in  thunder  was  there. 

Irish  told  his  name,  and  presently  went  inside.  "  I'm 
pulling  outa  town,  Fred/'  he  explained,  "  and  I  don't 
know  when  I'll  be  in  again.  So  I  want  you  to  take 
an  order  for  some -posts  and  bob  wire  and  steeples. 
I—" 

"  Why  didn't  you  come  to  the  store  ?  "  Fred  very 
naturally  demanded,  peevish  at  being  wakened  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  "  I  saw  you  in  town  when  I 
closed  up." 

"  I  was  busy.  Crawl  back  into  bed  and  cover  up, 
while  I  give  you  the  order.  I'll  want  a  receipt  for 
the  money,  too  —  I'm  paying  in  advance,  so  you  won't 


190     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

have  any  excuse  for  holding  up  the  order.  Got  any- 
thing to  write  on  ?  " 

Fred  found  part  of  an  order  pad  and  a  pencil,  and 
crept  shivering  into  his  bed.  The  offer  to  pay  in  ad- 
vance had  silenced  his  grumbling,  as  Irish  expected  it 
would.  So  Irish  gave  the  order  —  thirteen  hundred 
cedar  posts,  I  remember  —  I  don't  know  just  how  much 
wire,  but  all  he  would  need. 

"  Holy  macintosh !  Is  this  for  you?  "  Fred  wanted 
to  know  as  he  wrote  it  down. 

"  Some  of  it.  We're  fencing  our  claims.  If  I  don't 
come  after  the  stuff  myself,  let  any  of  the  boys  have  it 
that  shows  up.  And  get  it  here  as  quick  as  you  can  — 
what  you  ain't  got  on  hand  — " 

Fred  was  scratching  his  jaw  meditatively  with  the 
pencil,  and  staring  at  the  order.  "  I  can  just  about  fill 
that  order  outa  stock  on  hand,"  he  told  Irish.  "  When 
all  this  land  rush  started  I  laid  in  a  big  supply  of  posts 
and  wire.  First  thing  they'd  want,  after  they  got 
their  shacks  up.  How  you  making  it,  out  there  ?  " 

"  Fine,"  said  Irish  cheerfully,  feeling  his  broken 
knuckles.  "  How  much  is  all  that  going  to  cost  ?  You 
oughta  make  us  a  rate  on  it,  seeing  it's  a  cash  sale,  and 
Mg." 

"  I  will."  Fred  tore  out  a  sheet  and  did  some  mys- 
terious figuring,  afterwards  crumpling  the  paper  into  a 


WORKS    FOR    THE    CAUSE     191 

little  wad  and  flipping  it  behind  the  bed.  "  This  has  got 
to  be  on  the  quiet,  Irish.  I  can't  sell  wire  and  posts 
to  those  eastern  marks  at  this  rate,  you  know.  This  is 
just  for  you  boys  —  and  the  profit  for  us  is  trimmed 
right  down  to  a  whisper.'7  He  named  the  sum  total 
with  the  air  of  one  who  confers  a  great  favor. 

Irish  grinned  and  reached  into  his  pocket.  "  You 
must  a  knocked  your  profit  down  to  fifty  per  cent.,"  he 
fleered.  "  But  it's  a  go  with  me."  He  peeled  off  the 
whole  roll,  just  about.  He  had  two  twenties  left  in  his 
hand  when  he  stopped.  He  was  very  methodical  that 
night.  He  took  a  receipt  for  the  money  before  he  left, 
and  he  looked  at  it  with  glistening  eyes  before  he  folded 
it  with  the  money.  "  Don't  sell  any  posts  and  wire  till 
our  order's  filled,  Fred,"  he  warned.  "We'll  begin 
hauling  right  away,  and  we'll  want  it  all." 

He  let  himself  out  into  the  cool  starlight,  walked  in 
the  shadows  to  where  he  had  left  his  horse,  mounted 
and  rode  whistling  away  down  the  lane  which  ended 
where  the  hills  began. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

JUST  ONE  THING  AFTER  ANOTHER 

A  GRAY  clarity  of  the  air  told  that  daylight  was 
near.  The  skyline  retreated,  the  hills  came  out 
of  the  duskiness  like  a  photograph  in  the  developer  tray. 
Irish  dipped  down  the  steep  slope  into  Antelope  Coulee, 
cursing  the  sprinkle  of  new  shacks  that  stood  stark  in 
the  dawn  on  every  ridge  and  every  hilltop,  look  where 
one  might.  He  loped  along  the  winding  trail  through 
the  coulee's  bottom  and  climbed  the  hill  beyond.  At 
the  top  he  glanced  across  the  more  level  upland  to  the 
east  and  his  eyes  lightened.  Far  away  stood  a  shack 
—  Patsy's,  that  was.  Beyond  that  another,  and  yet 
another.  Most  of  the  boys  had  built  in  the  coulees 
where  was  water.  They  did  not  care  so  much  about 
the  view  —  over  which  Miss  Allen  had  grown  enthusi- 
astic. 

He  pulled  up  in  a  certain  place  near  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  and  looked  down  into  the  narrower  gulch  where 
huddled  the  shacks  they  had  moved.  He  grinned  at 
the  sight.  His  hand  went  involuntarily  to  his  pocket 
and  the  grin  widened.  He  hurried  on  that  he  might 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER      193 

the  sooner  tell  the  boys  of  their  good  luck;  all  the 
material  for  that  line  fence  bought  and  paid  for  —  they 
would  certainly  laugh  when  they  heard  where  the  money 
had  come  from ! 

First  he  thought  that  he  would  locate  the  cattle  and 
tell  his  news  to  the  boys  on  guard.  He  therefore  left  the 
trail  and  rode  up  on  a  ridge  from  which  he  could  over- 
look the  whole  benchland,  with  the  exception  of  certain 
gulches  that  cut  through.  The  sky  was  reddening  now, 
save  where  banked  clouds  turned  purple.  A  breeze 
crept  over  the  grass  and  carried  the  fresh  odor  of  rain. 
Close  beside  him  a  little  brown  bird  chittered  briskly 
and  flew  away  into  the  dawn. 

He  looked  away  to  where  the  Bear  Paws  humped, 
blue-black  against  the  sky,  the  top  of  Old  Baldy  blushing 
faintly  under  the  first  sun  rays.  He  looked  past  Wolf 
Butte,  where  the  land  was  blackened  with  outcroppings 
of  rock.  His  eyes  came  back  leisurely  to  the  claim 
country.  A  faint  surprise  widened  his  lids,  and  he 
turned  and  sent  a  glance  sweeping  to  the  right,  toward 
Flying  U  Coulee.  He  frowned,  and  studied  the  bench- 
land  carefully. 

This  was  daybreak,  when  the  cattle  should  be  getting 
out  for  their  breakfast-feed.  They  should  be  scattered 
along  the  level  just  before  him.  And  there  were  no 
cattle  anywhere  in  sight.  Neither  were  there  any  riders 


194    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

in  sight.  Irish  gave  a  puzzled  grunt  and  turned  in  his 
saddle,  looking  back  toward  Dry  Lake.  That  way,  the 
land  was  more  broken,  and  he  could  not  see  so  far.  But 
as  far  as  he  could  see  there  were  no  cattle  that  way, 
either.  Last  night  when  he  rode  to  town  the  cattle  of 
the  colonists  had  been  feeding  on  the  long  slope  three 
or  four  miles  from  where  he  stood,  across  Antelope 
Coulee  where  he  had  helped  the  boys  drive  them. 

He  did  not  waste  many  minutes  studying  the  empty 
prairie  from  the  vantage  point  of  that  ridge,  however. 
The  keynote  of  Irish's  nature  was  action.  He  sent  his 
horse  down  the  southern  slope  to  the  level,  and  began 
looking  for  tracks,  which  is  the  range  man's  guide-book. 
He  was  not  long  in  finding  a  broad  trai1  in  the  grass 
where  cattle  had  lately  crossed  the  coulee  from  the 
west.  He  knew  what  that  meant,  and  he  swore  when  he 
saw  how  the  trail  pointed  straight  to  the  east  —  to  the 
broken,  open  country  beyond  One  Man  Coulee.  What 
had  the  boys  been  thinking  of,  to  let  that  nester  stock 
get  past  them  in  the  night  ?  What  had  the  line-riders 
been  doing  ?  They  were  supposed  to  guard  against  just 
such  a  move  as  this. 

Irish  was  sore  from  his  fight  in  town,  and  he  had  not 
had  much  sleep  during  the  past  forty-eight  hours,  and 
he  was  ravenously  hungry.  He  followed  the  trail  of 
the  cattle  until  he  saw  that  they  certainly  had  gotten 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER       195 

across  the  Happy  Family  claims  and  into  the  rough 
country  beyond ;  then  he  turned  and  rode  over  to  Patsy's 
shack,  where  a  blue  smoke-column  wobbled  up  to  the  fit- 
ful air-current  that  seized  it  and  sent  it  flying  toward 
the  mountains. 

There  he  learned  that  Dry  Lake  had  not  hugged  to  it- 
self all  the  events  of  the  night.  Patsy,  smoking  a  pipe- 
full  of  Durham  while  he  waited  for  the  teakettle  to  boil, 
was  wild  with  resentment.  In  the  night,  while  he  slept, 
something  had  heaved  his  cabin  up  at  one  corner.  In  a 
minute  another  corner  heaved  upward  a  foot  or  more. 
Patsy  had  yelled  while  he  felt  around  in  the  darkness 
for  his  clothes,  and  had  got  no  answer,  save  other  heav- 
ings  from  below. 

Patsy  was  not  the  man  to  submit  tamely  to  such  in- 
dignities. He  had  groped  and  found  his  old  45-70 
rifle,  that  made  a  noise  like  a  young  cannon  and  kicked 
like  a  broncho  cow.  While  the  shack  lurched  this  way 
and  that,  Patsy  pointed  the  gun  toward  the  greatest  dis- 
turbance and  fired.  He  did  not  think  he  hit  anybody, 
but  he  apologized  to  Irish  for  missing  and  blamed  the 
darkness  for  the  misfortune.  Py  cosh,  he  sure  tried  — 
witness  the  bullet  holes  which  he  had  bored  through 
the  four  sides  of  the  shack ;  he  besought  Irish  to  count 
them;  which  Irish  did  gravely.  And  what  happened 
then? 


196     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Then  ?  Why,  then  the  Happy  Family  had  come ;  or 
at  least  all  those  who  had  been  awake  and  riding  the 
prairie  had  come  pounding  up  out  of  the  dark,  their 
horses  running  like  rabbits,  their  blood  singing  the  song 
of  battle.  They  had  grappled  with  certain  of  the  enemy 
—  Patsy  broke  open  the  door  and  saw  tangles  of  strug- 
gling forms  in  the  faint  starlight.  The  Happy  Fam- 
ily were  not  the  type  of  men  who  must  settle  every  argu- 
ment with  a  gun,  remember.  Not  while  their  hands 
might  be  used  to  fight  with.  Patsy  thought  that  they 
licked  the  nesters  without  much  trouble.  He  knew  that 
the  settlers  ran,  and  that  the  Happy  Family  chased  them 
clear  across  the  line  and  then  came  back  and  let  the 
shack  down  where  it  belonged  upon  the  rock  underpin- 
ning. 

"  Und  py  cosh !  Dey  vould  move  my  shack  ofFn  my 
land !  "  he  grunted  ragefully  as  he  lived  over  the  mem- 
ory. 

Irish  went  to  the  door  and  looked  out.  The  wind 
had  risen  in  the  last  half  hour,  so  that  his  hat  went 
sailing  against  the  rear  wall,  but  he  did  not  notice  that. 
He  was  wondering  why  the  settlers  had  made  this  night 
move  against  Patsy.  Was  it  an  attempt  to  irritate  the 
boys  to  some  real  act  of  violence  —  something  that  would 
put  them  in  fear  of  the  law  ?  Or  was  it  simply  a  strat- 
agem to  call  off  the  night-guard  so  that  they  might  slip 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER      197 

their  cattle  across  into  the  breaks  ?  They  must  have 
counted  on  some  disturbance  which  would  reach  the 
ears  of  the  boys  on  guard.  If  Patsy  had  not  begun  the 
bombardment  with  his  old  rifle,  they  would  very  likely 
have  fired  a  few  shots  themselves  —  enough  to  attract  at- 
tention. With  that  end  in  view,  he  could  see  why  Pat- 
sy's shack  had  been  chosen  for  the  attack.  Patsy's 
shack  was  the  closest  to  where  they  had  been  holding  the 
cattle.  It  was  absurdly  simple,  and  evidently  the  ruse 
had  worked  to  perfection. 

"  Where  are  the  boys  at  now  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly, 
turning  to  Patsy  who  had  risen  and  knocked  the  ashes 
from  his  pipe  and  was  slicing  bacon. 

"  Gone  after  the  cattle.  Dey  stampede  alreatty  mit 
all  der  noise,"  Patsy  growled,  with  his  back  to  Irish. 

So  it  was  just  as  Irish  had  suspected.  He  faced  the 
west  and  the  gathering  bank  of  "  thunder  heads  "  that 
rode  swift  on  the  wind  and  muttered  sullenly  as  they 
rode,  and  he  hesitated.  Should  he  go  after  the  boys  and 
help  them  round  up  the  stock  and  drive  it  back,  or 
should  he  stay  where  he  was  and  watch  the  claims  ? 
There  was  that  fence  —  he  must  see  to  that,  too.  He 
turned  and  asked  Patsy  if  all  the  boys  were  gone.  But 
Patsy  did  not  know. 

Irish  stood  in  the  doorway  until  breakfast  was  ready, 
whereupon  he  sat  down  and  ate  hurriedly  —  as  much 


198     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

from  habit  as  from  any  present  need  of  haste.  A  gust 
of  wind  made  the  flimsy  cabin  shake,  and  Patsy  went  to 
close  the  door  against  its  sudden  fury. 

"  Some  riders  iss  coming  now/'  he  said,  and  held  the 
door  half  closed  against  the  wind.  "  It  ain't  none  off 
der  boys,"  he  added,  with  the  certainty  which  came  of 
his  having  watched,  times  without  number,  while  the 
various  members  of  the  Happy  Family  rode  in  from 
the  far  horizons  to  camp.  "  Pilgrims,  I  guess  —  from 
der  ridin'." 

Irish  grunted  and  reached  for  the  coffee  pot,  giving 
scarce  a  thought  to  Patsy's  announcement.  While  he 
poured  his  third  cup  of  coffee  he  made  a  sudden  decision. 
He  would  get  that  fence  off  his  mind,  anyway. 

"  Say,  Patsy,  I've  rustled  wire  and  posts  —  all  we'll 
need.  I  guess  I'll  just  turn  this  receipt  over  to  you  and 
let  you  get  busy.  You  take  the  team  and  drive  in  today 
and  get  the  stuff  headed  out  here  pronto.  The  nesters 
are  shipping  in  more  stock  —  I  heard  in  town  that 
they're  bringing  in  all  they  can  rustle,  thinkin'  the 
stock  will  pay  big  money  while  the  claims  are  getting 
ready  to  produce.  I  heard  a  couple  of  marks  telling 
each  other  just  how  it  was  going  to  work  out  so  as  to 
put  'em  all  on  Easy  Street  —  the  darned  chumps ! 
Free  grass  —  that's  what  they  harped  on;  feed  don't 
cost  anything.  All  yuh  do  is  turn  'em  loose  and  wait 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER       199 

till  shippin'  season,  and  then  collect.  That's  what  they 
were  talking. 

"  The  sooner  that  fence  is  up  the  better.  We  can't 
put  in  the  whole  summer  hazing  their  cattle  around. 
I've  bought  the  stuff  and  paid  for  it.  And  here's  forty 
dollars  you  can  use  to  hire  it  hauled  out  here.  Us  fel- 
lows have  got  to  keep  cases  on  the  cattle,  so  you  'tend  to 
this  fence."  He  laid  the  money  and  Fred's  receipt 
upon  the  table  and  set  Patsy's  plate  over  them  to  hold 
them  safe  against  the  wind  that  rattled  the  shack.  He 
had  forgotten  all  about  the  three  approaching  riders, 
until  Patsy  turned  upon  him  sharply. 

""  Yot  schrapes  you  been  into  now  ?  "  he  demanded 
querulously.  "  Py  cosh  you  done  somet'ings.  It's  der 
conshtable  comin'  alreatty.  I  bet  you  be  pinched." 

"  I  bet  I  don't,"  Irish  retorted,  and  made  for  the  one 
window,  which  looked  toward  the  hills.  "  Feed  'em 
some  breakfast,  Patsy.  And  you  drive  in  and  tend  to 
that  fencing  right  away,  like  I  told  you." 

He  threw  one  long  leg  over  the  window  sill,  bent  his 
lean  body  to  pass  through  the  square  opening,  and  drew 
the  other  leg  outside.  He  startled  his  horse,  which  had 
walked  around  there  out  of  the  wind,  but  he  caught  the 
bridle-reins  and  led  him  a  few  steps  farther  where  he 
would  be  out  of  the  direct  view  from  the  window.  Then 
he  stopped  and  listened. 


200     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

He  heard  the  three  ride  up  to  the  other  side  of  the 
shack  and  shout  to  Patsy.  He  heard  Patsy  moving 
about  inside,  and  after  a  brief  delay  open  the  door.  He 
heard  the  constable  ask  Patsy  if  he  knew  anything  about 
Irish,  and  where  he  could  be  found ;  and  he  heard  Patsy 
declare  that  he  had  enough  to  do  without  keeping  track 
of  that  boneheaded  cowpuncher  who  was  good  for  noth- 
ing but  to  fight  and  get  into  schrapes. 

After  that  he  heard  Patsy  ask  the  constable  if  they 
had  had  any  breakfast  before  leaving  town.  He 
heard  certain  saddle-sounds  which  told  of  their  dis- 
mounting in  response  to  the  tacit  invitation.  And 
then,  pulling  his  hat  firmly  down  upon  his  head,  Irish 
led  his  horse  quietly  down  into  a  hollow  behind  the 
shack,  and  so  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  those  three 
who  sought  him. 

He  did  not  believe  that  he  was  wanted  for  anything 
very  serious;  they  meant  to  arrest  him,  probably,  for 
laying  out  those  two  gamblers  with  a  chair  and  a  bottle 
of  whisky  respectively.  A  trumped-up  charge,  very 
likely,  chiefly  calculated  to  make  him  some  trouble  and 
to  eliminate  him  from  the  struggle  for  a  time.  Irish 
did  not  worry  at  all  over  their  reason  for  wanting  him, 
but  he  did  not  intend  to  let  them  come  close  enough  to 
state  their  errand,  because  he  did  not  want  to  become 
guilty  of  resisting  an  officer  —  which  would  be  much 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER      201 

worse  than  fighting  nesters  with  fists  and  chairs  and 
bottles  and  things. 

In  the  hollow  he  mounted  and  rode  down  the  depres- 
sion and  debouched  upon  the  wide,  grassy  coulee  where 
lay  a  part  of  his  own  claim.  He  was  not  sure  of  the 
intentions  of  that  constable,  but  he  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  would  presently  ride  on  to  Irish's  cabin  in 
search  of  him ;  also  that  he  would  look  for  him  further, 
and  possibly  with  a  good  deal  of  persistence;  which 
would  be  a  nuisance  and  would  in  a  measure  hamper  the 
movements  and  therefore  the  usefulness  of  Irish.  For 
that  reason  he  was  resolved  to  take  no  chance  that  could 
be  avoided. 

The  sun  slid  behind  the  scurrying  forerunners  of  the 
storm  and  struggled  unavailingly  to  shine  through  upon 
the  prairie  land.  From  where  he  was  Irish  could  not 
see  the  full  extent  of  the  storm-clouds,  and  while  he  had 
been  on  high  land  he  had  been  too  absorbed  in  other 
matters  to  pay  much  attention.  Even  now  he  did  no 
more  than  glance  up  casually  at  the  inky  mass  above 
him,  and  decided  that  he  would  do  well  to  ride  on  to 
his  cabin  and  get  his  slicker. 

By  the  time  he  reached  his  shack  the  storm  was  beat- 
ing up  against  the  wind  which  had  turned  unexpectedly 
to  the  northeast.  Mutterings  of  thunder  grew  to 
sharper  booming.  It  was  the  first  real  thunderstorm  of 


202    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

the  season,  but  it  was  going  to  be  a  hard  one,  if  looks 
meant  anything.  Irish  went  in  and  got  his  slicker  and 
put  it  on,  and  then  hesitated  over  riding  on  in  search 
of  the  cattle  and  the  men  in  pursuit  of  them. 

Still,  the  constable  might  take  a  notion  to  ride  over 
this  way  in  spite  of  the  storm.  And  if  he  came  the/e 
would  be  delay,  even  if  there  were  nothing  worse.  So 
Irish,  being  one  to  fight  but  never  to  stand  idle,  mounted 
again  and  turned  his  long-suffering  horse  down  the 
coulee  as  the  storm  swept  up. 

First  a  few  large  drops  of  rain  pattered  upon  the 
earth  and  left  blobs  of  wet  where  they  fell.  His  horse 
shook  its  head  impatiently  and  went  sidling  forward  un- 
till  an  admonitory  kick  from  Irish  sent  him  straight 
down  the  dim  trail.  Then  the  clouds  opened  recklessly 
the  headgates  and  let  the  rain  down  in  one  solid  rush  of 
water  that  sluiced  the  hillsides  and  drove  muddy  tor- 
rents down  channels  that  had  been  dry  since  the  snow 
left. 

Irish  bent  his  head  so  that  his  hat  shielded  somewhat 
his  face,  and  rode  doggedly  on.  It  was  not  the  first  time 
that  he  had  been  out  in  a  smashing,  driving  thunder- 
storm, and  it  would  not  be  his  last  if  his  life  went  on 
logically  as  he  had  planned  it.  But  it  was  not  the  more 
comfortable  because  it  was  an  oft-repeated  experience. 
And  when  the  first  fury  had  passed  and  still  it  rained 


ONE    AFTER    ANOTHER       208 

steadily  and  with  no  promise  of  a  let-up,  his  optimism 
suffered  appreciably. 

His  luck  in  town  no  longer  cheered  him.  He  began 
to  feel  the  loss  of  sleep  and  the  bone-weariness  of  his 
fight  and  the  long  ride  afterwards.  His  breakfast  was 
the  one  bright  spot,  and  saved  him  from  the  gnawing 
discomfort  of  an  empty  stomach  —  at  first. 

He  went  into  One  Man  Coulee  and  followed  it  to  the 
arm  that  would  lead  to  the  rolling,  ridgy  open  land  be- 
yond, where  the  "  breaks  "  of  the  Badlands  reached  out 
to  meet  the  prairie.  He  came  across  the  track  of  the 
herd,  and  followed  it  to  the  plain.  Once  out  in  the 
open,  however,  the  herd  had  seemed  to  split  into  several 
small  bunches,  each  going  in  a  different  direction. 
Which  puzzled  Irish  a  little  at  first.  Later,  he  thought 
he  understood. 

The  cattle,  it  would  seem,  had  been  driven  purpose- 
fully into  the  edge  of  the  breaks  and  there  made  to  scat- 
ter out  through  the  winding  gulches  and  canyons  that 
led  deeper  into  the  Badlands.  It  was  the  trick  of  range- 
men —  he  could  not  believe  that  the  strange  settlers, 
ignorant  of  the  country  and  the  conditions,  would  know 
enough  to  do  this.  He  hesitated  before  several  possible 
routes,  the  rain  pouring  down  upon  him,  a  chill  breeze 
driving  it  into  his  face.  If  there  had  been  hoofprints 
to  show  which  way  the  boys  had  gone,  the  rain  had 


204     FLYING    ITS    LAST    STAND 

Cashed  them  so  that  they  looked  dim  and  old  and  gave 
him  little  help. 

He  chose  what  seemed  to  him  the  gorge  which  the  boys 
would  be  most  likely  to  follow  —  especially  at  night 
and  if  they  were  in  open  pursuit  of  those  who  had  driven 
the  cattle  off  the  benchland ;  and  that  the  cattle  had  been 
driven  beyond  this  point  was  plain  enough,  for  other- 
wise he  would  have  overtaken  stragglers  long  before  this. 

It  was  nearing  noon  when  he  came  out  finally  upon  a 
little,  open  flat  and  found  there  Big  Medicine  and  Pink 
holding  a  bunch  of  perhaps  a  hundred  cattle  which  they 
had  gleaned  from  the  surrounding  gulches  and  little 
"  draws  "  which  led  into  the  hills.  The  two  were  wet 
to  the  skin,  and  they  were  chilled  and  hungry  and  as 
amiable  as  a  she-bear  sent  up  a  tree  by  yelping,  yapping 
dogs. 

Big  Medicine  it  was  who  spied  him  first  through  the 
haze  of  falling  water,  and  galloped  heavily  toward  him,, 
his  horse  flinging  off  great  pads  of  mud  from  his  feet 
as  he  came. 

"  Say !  "  he  bellowed  when  he  was  yet  a  hundred 
yards  away.  "  Got  any  grub  with  yuh  ?  " 

"No!"  Irish  called  back. 

"  Y'aint  ?  "  Big  Medicine's  voice  was  charged  with 
incredulous  reproach.  "  What'n  hell  yuh  doin'  here 
^without  grub  ?  Is  Patsy  comin'  with  the  wagon  ?  " 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER       205 

"  ~No.     I  sent  Patsy  on  in  to  town  after  — " 

"Town?  And  us  out  here — "  Big  Medicine 
choked  over  his  wrongs. 

Irish  waited  until  he  could  get  in  a  word  and  then 
started  to  explain.  But  Pink  rode  up  with  his  hat- 
brim  flapping  soggily  against  one  dripping  cheek  when 
the  wind  caught  it,  and  his  coat  buttoned  wherever  there 
were  buttons,  and  his  collar  turned  up,  and  looking 
pinched  and  draggled  and  wholly  miserable. 

"  Say !  Got  anything  to  eat  ?  "  he  shouted  when  he 
came  near,  his  voice  eager  and  hopeful. 

"  No !  "  snapped  Irish  with  the  sting  of  Big  Medi- 
cine's vituperations  rankling  fresh  in  his  soul. 

"Well,  why  ain't  yuh?  Where's  Patsy?"  Pink 
came  closer  and  eyed  the  newcomer  truculently. 

"  How'n  hell  do  I  know  ? "  Irish  was  getting  a 
temper  to  match  their  own. 

"Well,  why  don't  yuh  know?  What  do  yuh  think 
you're  out  here  for  ?  To  tell  us  you  think  it's  going  to 
rain?  If  we  was  all  of  us  like  you,  there'd  be  noth- 
ing to  it  for  the  nester-bunch.  It's  a  wonder  you  come 
alive  enough  to  ride  out  this  way  at  all !  I  don't  reckon 
you've  even  got  anything  to  drink !  "  Pink  paused  a 
second,  saw  no  move  toward  producing  anything  wet 
and  cheering,  and  swore  disgustedly.  "  Of  course  not ! 
You  needed  it  all  yourself !  So  help  me  Josephine,  if  I 


206     FLYING    U'S    LAST    STAND 

was  as  low-down  ornery  as  some  I  could  name  I'd  tie 
myself  to  a  mule's  tail  and  let  him  kick  me  to  death! 
Ain't  got  any  grub !  Ain't  got  — " 

Irish  interrupted  him  then  with  a  sentence  that  stung. 
Irish,  remember,  distinctly  approved  of  himself  and 
his  actions.  True,  he  had  forgotten  to  bring  anything 
to  eat  with  him,  but  there  was  excuse  for  that  in  the 
haste  with  which  he  had  left  his  own  breakfast.  Be- 
sides how  could  he  be  expected  to  know  that  the  cattle 
had  been  driven  away  down  here,  and  scattered,  and 
that  the  Happy  Family  would  not  have  overtaken  them 
long  before  ?  Did  they  think  he  was  a  mind-reader  ? 

Pink,  with  biting  sarcasm,  retorted  that  they  did  not. 
That  it  took  a  mind  to  read  a  mind.  He  added  that, 
from  the  looks  of  Irish,  he  must  have  started  home 
drunk,  anyway,  and  his  horse  had  wandered  this  far  of 
his  own  accord.  Then  three  or  four  cows  started  up  a 
gulch  to  the  right  of  them  and  Pink,  hurling  insults 
over  his  shoulder,  rode  off  to  turn  them  back.  So  they 
did  not  actually  come  to  blows,  those  two,  though  they 
were  near  it. 

Big  Medicine  lingered  to  bawl  unforgivable  things  at 
Irish,  and  Irish  shouted  back  recklessly  that  they  had  all 
acted  like  a  bunch  of  sheepherders,  or  the  cattle  would 
never  have  been  driven  off  the  bench  at  all.  He  de- 
clared that  anybody  with  the  brains  of  a  sick  sagehen 


ONE    AFTER   ANOTHER       207 

would  have  stopped  the  thing  right  in  the  start.  He 
said  other  things  also. 

Big  Medicine  said  things  in  reply,  and  Pink,  re- 
turning to  the  scene  with  his  anger  grown  considerably 
hotter  from  feeding  upon  his  discomfort,  made  a  few 
comments  pertinent  to  the  subject  of  Irish's  shortcom- 
ings. 

You  may  scarcely  believe  it,  unless  you  have  really 
lived,  and  have  learned  how  easily  small  irritations  grow 
to  the  proportions  of  real  trouble,  and  how  swiftly  — 
but  this  is  a  fact:  Irish  and  Big  Medicine  became  so 
enraged  that  they  dismounted  simultaneously  and  Irish 
jerked  off  his  slicker  while  Big  Medicine  was  running 
up  to  smash  him  for  some  needless  insult. 

They  fought,  there  in  the  rain  and  the  mud  and  the 
chill  wind  that  whipped  their  wet  cheeks.  They  fought 
just  as  relentlessly  as  though  they  had  long  been  ene- 
mies, and  just  as  senselessly  as  though  they  were  not 
grown  men  but  schoolboys.  They  clinched  and  pounded 
and  smashed  until  Pink  sickened  at  the  sight  and  tore 
them  apart  and  swore  at  them  for  crazy  men  and  im- 
plored them  to  have  some  sense.  They  let  the  cattle 
that  had  been  gathered  with  so  much  trouble  drift  away 
into  the  gulches  and  draws  where  they  must  be  routed 
out  of  the  brush  again,  or  perhaps  lost  for  days  in  that 
rough  country. 


208    FLYING   ITS   LAST    STAND 

When  the  first  violence  of  their  rage  had  like  the 
storm  settled  to  a  cold  steadiness  of  animosity,  the  two 
remounted  painfully  and  turned  backs  upon  each  other. 
Big  Medicine  and  Pink  drew  close  together  as  against 
a  common  foe,  and  Irish  cursed  them  both  and  rode 
away  —  whither  he  did  not  know  nor  care. 


CHAPTEK  XV 

THE    KID    HAS    IDEAS    OF   HIS    OWN 

THE  Old  Man  sat  out  in  his  big  chair  on  the  porch, 
smoking  and  staring  dully  at  the  trail  which  led 
up  the  bluff  by  way  of  the  Hog's  Back  to  the  benchland 
beyond.  Facing  him  in  an  old,  cane  rocking  chair,  the 
Honorable  Blake  smoked  with  that  air  of  leisurely  en- 
joyment which  belongs  to  the  man  who  knows  and  can 
afford  to  burn  good  tobacco  and  who  has  the  sense  to 
burn  it  consciously,  realizing  in  every  whiff  its  rich 
fragrance.  The  Honorable  Blake  flicked  a  generous 
half-inch  of  ash  from  his  cigar  upon  a  porch  support 
and  glanced  shrewdly  at  the  Old  Man's  abstracted  face. 
"  No,  it  wouldn't  do,"  he  observed  with  the  accent 
of  a  second  consideration  of  a  subject  that  coincides  ex- 
actly with  the  first.  "  It  wouldn't  do  at  all.  You  could 
save  the  boys  time,  I've  no  doubt  —  time  and  trouble  so 
far  as  getting  the  cattle  back  where  they  belong  is  con- 
cerned. I  can  see  how  they  must  be  hampered  for  lack 
of  saddle-horses,  for  instance.  But  —  it  wouldn't  do, 
Whitmore.  If  they  come  to  you  and  ask  for  horses, 


210    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

don't  let  them  have  them.  They'll  manage  somehow 
—  trust  them  for  that.  They'll  manage  — 

"  But  doggone  it,  Blake,  it's  for  — " 

"  Sh-sh  -  Blake  held  up  a  warning  hand.  "  None 
of  that,  my  dear  Whitmore !  These  young  fellows  have 
taken  claims  in  —  er  —  good  faith."  His  bright  blue 
eyes  sparkled  with  a  sudden  feeling.  "  In  the  best  of 
good  faith,  if  you  ask  me.  I  —  admire  them  intensely 
for  what  they  have  started  out  to  do.  But  —  they  have 
certain  things  which  they  must  do,  and  do  alone.  If 
you  would  not  thwart  them  in  accomplishing  what  they 
have  set  out  to  do,  you  must  go  carefully ;  which  means 
that  you  must  not  run  to  their  aid  with  your  camp- 
wagons  and  your  saddle-horses,  so  they  can  gather  the 
cattle  again  and  drive  them  back  where  they  belong. 
You  would  not  be  helping  them.  They  would  get  the 
cattle  a  little  easier  and  a  little  quicker  —  and  lose 
their  claims." 

"  But  doggone  it,  Blake,  them  boys  have  lived  right 
here  at  the  Flying  IT  —  why,  this  has  been  their  home, 
yuh  might  say.  They  ain't  like  the  general  run  uh 
punchers  that  roam  around,  workin'  for  this  outfit  and 
for  that;  they've  stuck.  Why,  doggone  it,  what  they 
done  here  when  I  got  hurt  in  Chicago  and  they  was  left 
to  run  themselves,  why,  that  alone  puts  me  under  obliga- 
tions to  help  'em  out  in  this  scrape.  Anybody  could  see 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          211 

that.  Ain't  I  a  neighbor  ?  Ain't  neighbors  got  a  right 
to  jump  in  and  help  each  other?  There  ain't  no  law 
agin  — " 

"  Not  against  neighbors  —  no."  Blake  uncrossed  his 
perfectly  trousered  legs  and  crossed  them  the  other  way, 
after  carefully  avoiding  any  bagging  tendency.  "  But 
this  syndicate  —  or  these  contestants  —  will  try  to  prove 
that  you  are  not  a  neighbor  only,  but  a  —  backer  of  the 
boys  in  a  land-grabbing  scheme.  To  avoid  — " 

"Well,  doggone  your  measly  hide,  Blake,  I've  told 
you  fifty  times  I  ain't !  "  The  Old  Man  sat  forward 
in  his  chair  and  shook  his  fist  unabashed  at  his  guest. 
"  Them  boys  cooked  that  all  up  amongst  themselves,  and 
went  and  filed  on  that  land  before  ever  I  knowed  a  thing 
about  it.  How  can  yuh  set  there  and  say  I  backed  'em  ? 
And  that  blonde  Jezebel  —  riding  down  here  bold  as 
brass  and  turnin'  up  her  nose  at  Dell,  and  callin'  me  a 
conspirator  to  my  face !  " 

"  I  sticked  a  pin  in  her  saddle  blanket,  Uncle  Gee-gee. 
I'll  bet  she  wished  she'd  stayed  away  from  here  when 
her  horse  bucked  her  off."  The  Kid  looked  up  from 
trying  to  tie  a  piece  of  paper  to  the  end  of  a  brindle 
kitten's  switching  tail,  and  smiled  his  adorable  smile 
—  that  had  a  gap  in  the  middle. 

"  Hey  ?  You  leave  that  cat  alone  or  he'll  scratch 
yuh.  Blake,  if  you  can't  see  — " 


212    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  He !  He's  a  her  and  her  name's  Adeline.  Where's 
the  boys,  Uncle  Gee-gee  ?  " 

"Hey?  Oh,  away  down  in  the  breaks  after  their 
cattle  that  got  away.  You  keep  still  and  never  mind 
where  they've  gone."  His  mind  swung  back  to  the 
Happy  Family,  combing  the  breaks  for  their  stock  and 
the  stock  of  the  nesters,  with  an  average  of  one  saddle- 
horse  apiece  and  a  camp  outfit  of  the  most  primitive 
sort  —  if  they  had  any  at  all,  which  he  doubted.  The 
Old  Man  had  eased  too  many  roundups  through  that 
rough  country  not  to  realize  keenly  the  difficulties  of  the 
Happy  Family. 

"  They  need  horses,"  he  groaned  to  Blake,  "  and  they 
need  help.  If  you  knowed  the  country  and  the  work  as 
well  as  I  do  you'd  know  they've  got  to  have  horses  and 
help.  And  there's  their  claims  —  fellers  squatting 
down  on  every  eighty  —  four  different  nesters  f er  every 
doggoned  one  of  the  bunch  to  handle!  And  you  tell 
me  I  got  to  set  here  and  not  lift  a  hand.  You  tell  me 
I  can't  put  men  to  work  on  that  fence  they  want  built. 
You  tell  me  I  can't  lend  'em  so  much  as  a  horse !  " 

Blake  nodded.  "  I  tell  you  that,  and  I  emphasize  it," 
he  assured  the  other,  brushing  off  another  half  inch 
of  ash  from  his  cigar.  "  If  you  want  to  help  those  boys 
hold  their  land,  you  must  not  move  a  finger." 

"  He's  wiggling  all  of  'em !  "  accused  the  Kid  sternly, 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          213 

and  pointed  to  the  Old  Man  drumming  irritatedly  upon 
his  chair  arms.  "  He  don't  want  to  help  the  boys,  hut 
I  do.  I'll  help  'em  get  their  cattle,  Mr.  Blake.  I'm 
one  of  the  hunch  anyway.  I'll  lend  'em  my  string." 

"  You've  been  told  before  not  to  butt  in  to  grownup 
talk,"  his  uncle  reproved  him  irascibly.  "  JSTow  you 
cut  it  out.  And  take  that  string  off 'n  that  cat !  "  he 
added  harshly.  "  Dell !  Come  and  look  after  this 
kid !  Doggone  it,  a  man  can't  talk  five  minutes  — " 

The  Kid  giggled  irrepressibly.  "  That's  one  on  you, 
old  man.  You  saw  Doctor  Dell  go  away  a  long  time 
ago.  Think  she  can  hear  yuh  when  she's  away  up  on 
the  bench  ? " 

"  You  go  on  off  and  play !  "  commanded  the  Old  Man. 
"  I  dunno  what  yuh  want  to  pester  a  feller  to  death 
for  —  and  say !  Take  that  string  off'n  that  cat !  " 

"  Aw  gwan !  It  ain't  hurting  the  cat.  She  likes  it." 
He  lifted  the  kitten  and  squeezed  her  till  she  yowled. 
"  See  ?  She  said  yes,  she  likes  it." 

The  Old  Man  returned  to  the  trials  of  the  Happy 
Family,  and  the  Kid  sat  and  listened,  with  the  brindle 
kitten  snuggled  uncomfortably,  head  downward  in  his 
arms.  The  Kid  had  heard  a  good  deal,  lately,  about  the 
trials  of  his  beloved  "  bunch."  About  the  "  nesters  " 
who  brought  cattle  in  to  eat  up  the  grass  that  belonged 
to  the  cattle  of  the  bunch.  The  Kid  understood  that 


214     FLYING    U'S    LAST    STAND 

perfectly  —  since  lie  had  been  raised  in  the  atmosphere 
of  range  talk.  He  had  heard  about  the  men  building 
shacks  on  the  claims  of  the  Happy  Family  —  he  under- 
stood that  also ;  for  he  had  seen  the  shacks  himself,  and 
he  had  seen  where  they  had  been  slid  down  hill  into  the 
bottom  of  Antelope  Coulee.  He  knew  all  about  the 
attack  on  Patsy's  cabin  and  how  the  Happy  Family 
had  been  fooled,  and  the  cattle  driven  off  and  scattered. 
The  breaks  —  he  was  a  bit  hazy  upon  the  subject  of 
breaks.  He  had  heard  about  them  all  his  life.  The 
stock  got  amongst  them  and  had  to  be  hunted  out.  He 
thought  —  as  nearly  as  could  be  put  in  words  —  that 
it  must  be  a  place  where  all  the  brakes  grow  that  are 
used  on  wagons  and  buggies.  These  were  of  wood, 
therefore  they  must  grow  somewhere.  They  grew  where 
the  Happy  Family  went  sometimes,  when  they  were 
gone  for  days  and  days  after  stock.  They  were  down 
there  now  —  it  was  down  in  the  breaks,  always  —  and 
they  couldn't  round  up  their  cattle  because  they  hadn't 
horses  enough.  They  needed  help,  so  they  could  hurry 
back  and  slide  those  other  shacks  off  their  claims  and 
into  Antelope  Coulee  where  they  had  slid  the  others. 
On  the  whole,  the  Kid  had  a  very  fair  conception  of 
the  state  of  affairs.  Claimants  and  contestants  —  those 
words  went  over  his  head.  But  he  knew  perfectly  well 
that  the  nesters  were  the  men  that  didn't  like  the  Happy 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          215 

Family,  and  lived  in  shacks  on  the  way  to  town,  and 
plowed  big  patches  of  prairie  and  had  children  that 
went  barefooted  in  the  furrows  and  couldn't  ride  horses 
to  save  their  lives.  Pilgrim  kids,  that  didn't  know 
what  "  chaps  "  were  —  he  had  talked  with  a  few  when 
he  went  with  Doctor  Dell  and  Daddy  Chip  to  see  the 
sick  lady. 

After  a  while,  when  the  Honorable  Bl^ke  became  the 
chief  speaker  and  leaned  forward  and  tapped  the  Old 
Man  frequently  on  a  knee  with  his  finger,  and  used  long 
words  that  carried  no  meaning,  and  said  contestant  and 
claimant  and  evidence  so  often  that  he  became  tire- 
some, the  Kid  slid  off  the  porch  and  went  away,  his 
small  face  sober  with  deep  meditations. 

He  would  need  some  grub  —  maybe  the  bunch  was 
hungry  without  any  camp-wagons.  The  Kid  had  stood 
around  in  the  way,  many's  the  time,  and  watched  cer- 
tain members  of  the  Happy  Family  stuff  emergency 
rations  into  flour  sacks,  and  afterwards  tie  the  sack 
to  their  saddles  and  ride  off.  He  knew  all  about 
that,  too. 

He  hunted  up  a  flour  sack  that  had  not  had  all  the 
string  pulled  out  of  it  so  it  was  no  longer  a  sack  but 
a  dish-towel,  and  held  it  behind  his  back  while  he  went 
cautiously  to  the  kitchen  door.  The  Countess  was 
nowhere  in  sight  —  but  it  was  just  as  well  to  make 


216    FLYING   ITS   LAST    STAND 

sure.  The  Kid  went  in,  took  a  basin  off  the  table,  held 
it  high  and  deliberately  dropped  it  on  the  floor.  It 
made  a  loud  bang,  but  it  did  not  elicit  any  shrill  pro- 
test from  the  Countess;  therefore  the  Countess  was  no- 
where around.  The  Kid  went  in  boldly  and  filled  his 
flour-sack  so  full  it  dragged  on  the  floor  when  he  started 
off. 

At  the  door  he  went  down  the  steps  ahead  of  the 
sack,  and  bent  his  small  back  from  the  third  step  and 
pulled  the  sack  upon  his  shoulders.  It  wobbled  a  good 
deal,  and  the  Kid  came  near  falling  sidewise  off  the 
last  step  before  he  could  balance  his  burden.  But  he 
managed  it,  being  the  child  of  his  parents  and  having 
a  good  deal  of  persistence  in  his  makeup ;  and  he  went, 
by  a  roundabout  way,  to  the  stable  with  the  grub-sack 
bending  him  double.  Still  it  was  not  so  very  heavy; 
it  was  made  bulky  by  about  two  dozen  fresh-made 
doughnuts  and  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  jar  of  honey  and 
a  glass  of  wild-currant  jelly  and  a  pound  or  so  of  raw, 
dried  prunes  which  the  Kid  called  nibblin's  because 
he  liked  to  nibble  at  them,  like  a  prairie  dog  at  a  grass- 
root. 

Getting  that  sack  tied  fast  to  the  saddle  after  the 
saddle  was  on  Silver's  back  was  no  easy  task  for  a  boy 
who  is  six,  even  though  he  is  large  for  his  age.  Still, 
being  Chip's  Kid  and  the  Little  Doctor's  he  did  it  — 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          217 

with  the  help  of  the  oats  box  and  Silver's  patient  dis- 
position. 

There  were  other  things  which  the  bunch  always 
tied  on  their  saddles ;  a  blanket,  for  instance,  and  a  rope. 
The  Kid  made  a  trip  to  the  bunk-house  and  pulled  a 
gray  blanket  off  Ole's  bed,  and  spent  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  rolling  it  as  he  had  seen  the  boys  roll  blankets. 
The  oats  box,  with  Silver  standing  beside  it,  came  in 
handy  again.  He  found  a  discarded  rope  and  after 
much  labor  coiled  it  crudely  and  tied  it  beside  the 
saddle-fork. 

The  Kid  went  to  the  door,  stood  beside  it  and  leaned 
away  over  so  that  he  could  peek  out  and  not  be  seen. 
Voices  came  from  the  house  —  the  voice  of  the  Old  Man, 
to  be  exact  —  high-pitched  and  combative.  The  Kid 
looked  up  the  bluff,  and  the  trail  lay  empty  in  the 
afternoon  sun.  Still,  he  did  not  like  to  take  that  trail. 
Doctor  Dell  might  come  riding  down  there  almost  any 
minuta  The  Kid  did  not  want  to  meet  Doctor  Dell 
just  right  then. 

He  went  back,  took  Silver  by  the  bridle  reins  and 
led  him  out  of  the  barn  and  around  the  corner  where 
he  could  not  be  seen  from  the  White  House.  He  thought 
he  had  better  go  down  the  creek,  and  out  through  the 
wire  gate  and  on  down  the  creek  that  way.  He  was 
sure  that  the  "  breaks  "  were  somewhere  beyond  the 


218    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

end  of  the  coulee,  though  he  could  not  have  explained 
why  he  was  sure  of  it.  Perhaps  the  boys,  in  speaking 
of  the  breaks,  had  unconsciously  tilted  heads  in  that 
direction. 

The  Kid  went  quickly  down  along  the  creek  through 
the  little  pasture,  leading  Silver  by  the  reins.  He  was 
horribly  afraid  that  his  mother  might  ride  over  the  top 
of  the  hill  and  see  him  and  call  him  back.  If  she  did 
that,  he  would  have  to  go,  of  course.  Deliberate, 
open  disobedience  had  never  yet  occurred  to  the  Kid  as 
a  moral  possibility.  If  your  mother  or  your  Daddy 
Chip  told  you  to  come  back,  you  had  to  come;  there- 
fore he  did  not  want  to  be  told  to  come.  Doctor  Dell 
had  told  him  that  he  could  go  on  roundup  some  day  — 
the  Kid  had  decided  that  this  was  the  day,  but  that  it 
would  be  foolish  to  mention  the  decision  to  anyone. 
People  had  a  way  of  disagreeing  with  one's  decisions 
—  especially  Doctor  Dell,  who  always  said  one  was  too 
little.  The  Kid  thought  he  was  getting  pretty  big, 
since  he  could  stand  on  something  and  put  the  saddle 
on  Silver  his  own  self,  and  cinch  it  and  everything; 
plenty  big  enough  to  get  out  and  help  the  bunch  when 
they  needed  help. 

He  did  not  look  so*  very  big  as  he  went  trudging  down 
alongside  the  creek,  stumbling  now  and  then  in  the 
coarse  grass  that  hid  the  scattered  rocks.  He  could 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          219 

not  keep  his  head  twisted  around  to  look  under  Silver's 
neck  and  watch  the  hill  trail,  and  at  the  same  time  see 
where  he  was  putting  his  feet.  And  if  he  got  on  Sil- 
ver now  he  would  be  seen  and  recognized  at  the  first 
glance  which  Doctor  Dell  would  give  to  the  coulee  when 
she  rode  over  the  brow  of  the  hill.  Walking  beside 
Silver's  shoulder,  on  the  side  farthest  from  the  bluff, 
he  might  not  be  seen  at  all;  Doctor  Dell  might  look 
and  think  it  was  just  a  horse  walking  along  the  creek 
his  own  self. 

The  Kid  was  extremely  anxious  that  he  should  not  be 
seen.  The  bunch  needed  him.  Uncle  Gee-gee  said 
they  needed  help.  The  Kid  thought  they  would  ex- 
pect him  to  come  and  help  with  his  "  string."  He 
helped  Daddy  Chip  drive  the  horses  up  from  the  little 
pasture,  these  days;  just  yesterday  he  had  brought  the 
whole  bunch  up,  all  by  his  own  self,  and  had  driven 
them  into  the  big  corral  alone,  and  Daddy  Chip  had 
stood  by  the  gate  and  watched  him  do  it.  Daddy 
Chip  had  lifted  him  down  from  Silver's  back,  and  had 
squeezed  him  hard,  and  had  called  him  a  real,  old  cow- 
puncher.  The  Kid  got  warm  all  inside  him  when  he 
thought  of  it. 

When  a  turn  in  the  narrow  creek-bottom  hid  him 
completely  from  the  ranch  buildings  and  the  hill 
trail,  the  Kid  led  Silver  alongside  a  low  bank,  and 


220     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

climbed  into  the  saddle.  Then  he  made  Silver  lope 
all  the  way  to  the  gate. 

He  had  some  trouble  with  that  gate.  It  was  a  barbed 
wire  gate,  such  as  bigger  men  than  the  Kid  sometimes 
swear  over.  It  went  down  all  right,  but  when  he  came 
to  put  it  up  again,  that  was  another  matter.  He 
simply  had  to  put  it  up  before  he  could  go  on.  You 
always  had  to  shut  gates  if  you  found  them  shut  —  that 
was  a  law  of  the  range  which  the  Kid  had  learned  so 
long  ago  he  could  not  remember  when  he  had  learned 
it.  And  there  was  another  reason  —  he  did  not  want 
them  to  know  he  had  passed  that  way,  if  they  took  a 
notion  to  call  him  back.  So  he  worked  and  he  tugged 
and  he  grew  so  red  in  the  face  it  looked  as  if  he  were 
choking.  But  he  got  the  gate  up  and  the  wire  loop 
over  the  stake  —  though  he  had  to  hunt  up  an  old  piece 
of  a  post  to  stand  on,  and  even  then  had  to  stand  on 
his  toes  to  reach  the  loop  —  since  he  was  Chip's  Kid  and 
the  Little  Doctor's. 

He  even  remembered  to  scrape  out  the  tell-tale  prints 
of  his  small  feet  in  the  bare  earth  there,  and  the  prints 
of  Silver's  feet  where  he  went  through.  Yarns  he  had 
heard  the  Happy  Family  tell,  in  the  bunk-house  on 
rainy  days,  had  taught  him  these  tricks.  He  was  ex- 
tremely thorough  in  all  that  he  did  —  being  a  good 
deal  like  his  dad  —  and  when  he  went  on,  keeping  to 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          221 

the  grass,  no  one  would  have  suspected  that  he  had 
passed  that  way. 

After  a  while  he  left  that  winding  creek-bottom  and 
climbed  a  long  ridge.  Then  he  went  down  hill  and 
pretty  soon  he  climbed  another  hill  that  made  old 
Silver  stop  and  rest  before  he  went  on  to  the  top.  The 
Kid  stood  on  the  top  for  a  few  minutes  and  stared 
wistfully  out  over  the  tumbled  mass  of  hills,  and  deep 
hollows,  and  hills,  and  hills  and  hills  —  till  he  could 
not  see  where  they  left  off.  He  could  not  see  any  of 
the  bunch;  but  then,  he  could  not  see  any  brakes 
growing  anywhere,  either.  The  bunch  was  down  in  the 
brakes  —  he  had  heard  that  often  enough  to  get  it  fixed 
firmly  in  his  mind.  Well,  when  he  came  to  where  the 
brakes  grew  —  and  he  would  know  them,  all  right, 
when  he  saw  them !  —  he  would  find  the  bunch.  He 
thought  they'd  be  s'prised  to  see  him  ride  up !  The 
bunch  didn't  know  that  he  could  drive  stock  all  his 
own  self,  and  that  he  was  a  real,  old  cowpuncher  now. 
He  was  a  lot  bigger.  He  didn't  have  to  hunt  such  a 
big  rock,  or  such  a  high  bank,  to  get  on  Silver  now. 
He  thought  he  must  be  pretty  near  as  big  as  Pink,  any- 
way. They  would  certainly  be  s'prised ! 

The  brakes  must  be  farther  over.  Maybe  he  would 
have  to  go  over  on  the  other  side  of  that  biggest  hill 
before  he  came  to  the  place  where  they  grew.  He  rode 


222     FLYING    ITS    LAST    STAND 

unafraid  down  a  steep,  rocky  slope  where  Silver  picked 
his  way  very,  very  carefully,  and  sometimes  stopped 
and  smelt  of  a  ledge  or  a  pile  of  rocks,  and  then  turned 
and  found  some  other  way  down. 

The  Kid  let  him  choose  his  path  —  Daddy  Chip  had 
taught  him  to  leave  the  reins  loose  and  let  Silver  cross 
ditches  and  rough  places  where  he  wanted  to  cross. 
So  Silver  brought  him  safely  down  that  hill  where 
even  the  Happy  Family  would  have  hesitated  to  ride 
unless  the  need  was  urgent. 

He  could  not  go  right  up  over  the  next  hill  —  there 
was  a  rock  ledge  that  was  higher  than  his  head  when 
he  sat  on  Silver.  He  went  down  a  narrow  gulch  — 
oh,  an  awfully  narrow  gulch !  Sometimes  he  was  afraid 
Silver  was  too  fat  to  squeeze  through;  hut  Silver  al- 
ways did  squeeze  through  somehow.  And  still  there 
were  no  brakes  growing  anywhere.  Just  choke-cherry 
trees,  and  service-berries,  and  now  and  then  a  little  flat 
filled  with  cottonwoods  and  willows  —  familiar  trees 
and  bushes  that  he  had  known  all  his  six  years  of  life. 

So  the  Kid  went  on  and  on,  over  hills  or  around 
hills  or  down  along  the  side  of  hills.  But  he  did  not 
find  the  Happy  Family,  and  he  did  not  find  the  brakes. 
He  found  cattle  that  had  the  Flying  IT  brand  —  they 
had  a  comfortable,  homey  look.  One  bunch  he  drove 
down  a  wide  coulee,  hazing  them  out  of  the  brush  and 


IDEAS    OF    HIS    OWN          223 

yelling  "  Hy-ah !  "  at  them,  just  the  way  the  Happy 
Family  yelled.  He  thought  maybe  these  were  the  cattle 
the  Happy  Family  were  looking  for ;  so  he  drove  them 
ahead  of  him  and  didn't  let  one  break  back  on  him, 
and  he  was  the  happiest  Kid  in  all  Montana  with  those 
range  cattle,  that  had  the  Flying  U  brand,  galloping 
awkwardly  ahead  of  him  down  that  big  coulee. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"  A   BELL    OLD    COWPTJNCHEE  " 

r  I  iHE  hills  began  to  look  bigger,  and  kind  of  chilly 
JL  and  blue  in  the  deep  places.  The  Kid  wished  that 
he  could  find  some  of  the  boys.  He  was  beginning  to 
get  hungry,  and  he  had  long  ago  begun  to  get  tired. 
But  he  was  undismayed,  even  when  he  heard  a  coyote 
yap-yap-yapping  up  a  brushy  canyon.  It  might  be  that 
he  would  have  to  camp  out  all  night.  The  Kid  had 
loved  those  cowboy  yarns  where  the  teller  —  who  was 
always  the  hero  —  had  been  caught  out  somewhere  and 
had  been  compelled  to  make  a  "  dry  camp."  His  favor- 
ite story  of  that  type  was  the  story  of  how  Happy  Jack 
had  lost  his  clothes  and  had  to  go  naked  through  the 
breaks.  It  was  not  often  that  he  could  make  Happy 
Jack  tell  him  that  story  —  never  when  the  other  boys 
were  around.  And  there  were  other  times;  when  Pink 
had  got  lost,  down  in  the  breaks,  and  had  found  a  cabin 
just  —  in  —  time,,  with  Irish  sick  inside  and  a  bliz- 
zard just  blowing  outside,  and  they  were  mad  at  each 
other  and  wouldn't  talk,  and  all  they  had  to  eat  was 


"RELL    OLD    COWPUNCHER"     225 

one  weenty,  teenty  snow-bird,  till  the  yearling  heifer 
came  and  Pink  killed  it  and  they  had  beefsteak  and  got 
good  friends  again.  And  there  were  other  times,  that 
others  of  the  boys  could  tell  about,  and  that  the  Kid 
thought  about  now  with  pounding  pulse.  It  was  not  all 
childish  fear  of  the  deepening  shadows  that  made  his 
eyes  big  and  round  while  he  rode  slowly  on,  farther  and 
farther  into  the  breaks. 

He  still  drove  the  cattle  before  him;  rather,  he  fol- 
lowed where  the  cattle  led.  He  felt  very  big  and  very 
proud  —  but  he  did  wish  he  could  find  the  Happy 
Family !  Somebody  ought  to  stand  guard,  and  he  was 
getting  sleepy  already. 

Silver  stopped  to  drink  at  a  little  creek  of  clear,  cold 
water.  There  was  grass,  and  over  there  was  a  little 
hollow  under  a  rock  ledge.  The  sky  was  all  purple  and 
red,  like  Doctor  Dell  painted  in  pictures,  and  up  the 
coulee,  where  he  had  been  a  little  while  ago,  it  was  look- 
ing kind  of  dark.  The  Kid  thought  maybe  he  had 
better  camp  here  till  morning.  He  reined  Silver 
against  a  bank  and  slid  off,  and  stood  looking  around 
him  at  the  strange  hills  with  the  huge,  black  boulders 
that  looked  like  houses  unless  you  knew,  and  the  white 
cliffs  that  looked  —  queer  —  unless  you  knew  they 
were  just  cliffs. 

For  the  first  time  since  he  started,  the  Kid  wished 


226     FLYING    U'S    LAST    STAND 

guiltily  that  his  dad  was  here,  or  —  he  did  wish  the 
bunch  would  happen  along!  He  wondered  if  they 
weren't  camped,  maybe,  around  that  point.  Maybe 
they  would  hear  him  if  he  hollered  as  loud  as  he  could. 
Which  he  did,  two  or  three  times;  and  quit  because 
the  hills  hollered  back  at  him  and  they  wouldn't  stop 
for  the  longest  time  —  it  was  just  like  people  yelling 
at  him  from  behind  those  rocks. 

The  Kid  knew,  of  course,  who  they  were;  they  were 
Echo-boys,  and  they  wouldn't  hurt,  and  they  wouldn't 
let  you  see  them.  They  just  ran  away  and  hollered 
from  some  other  place.  There  was  an  Echo-boy  lived 
up  on  the  bluff  somewhere  above  the  house.  You 
could  go  down  in  the  little  pasture  and  holler,  and  the 
Echo-boy  would  holler  back.  The  Kid  was  not  afraid 
—  but  there  seemed  to  be  an  awful  lot  of  Echo-boys 
down  in  these  hills.  They  were  quiet  after  a  minute  or 
so,  and  he  did  not  call  again. 

The  Kid  was  six,  and  he  was  big  for  his  age ;  but  he 
looked  very  little,  there  alone  in  that  deep  coulee  that 
was  really  more  like  a  canyon  —  very  little  and  lone- 
some and  as  if  he  needed  his  Doctor  Dell  to  take  him 
on  her  lap  and  rock  him.  It  was  just  about  the  time 
of  day  when  Doctor  Dell  always  rocked  him  and  told 
him  stories  —  about  the  Happy  Family,  maybe.  The 
Kid  hated  to  be  suspected  of  baby  ways,  but  he  loved 


"HELL    OLD    COWPUNCHER"     227 

those  times,  when  his  legs  were  tired  and  his  eyes 
wanted  to  go  shut,  and  Doctor  Dell  laid  her  cheek  on 
his  hair  and  called  him  her  baby  man.  Nobody  knew 
about  those  times  —  that  was  most  always  in  the  bed- 
room and  the  boys  couldn't  hear. 

The  Kid's  lips  quivered  a  little.  Doctor  Dell  would 
be  s'prised  when  he  didn't  show  up  for  supper,  he 
guessed.  He  turned  to  Silver  and  to  his  man  ways, 
because  he  did  not  like  to  think  about  Doctor  Dell 
just  right  now. 

"  Well,  old  feller,  I  guess  you  want  your  saddle  off, 
huh  ?  "  he  quavered,  and  slapped  the  horse  upon  the 
shoulder.  He  lifted  the  stirrup  —  it  was  a  little  stock 
saddle,  with  everything  just  like  a  big  saddle  except 
the  size;  Daddy  Chip  had  had  it  made  for  the  Kid  in 
Cheyenne,  last  Christmas  —  and  began  to  undo  the 
latigo,  whistling  self-consciously  and  finding  that  his 
lips  kept  trying  to  come  unpuckered  all  the  time,  and 
trying  to  tremble  just  the  way  they  did  when  he  cried. 
He  had  no  intention  of  crying. 

"  Gee !  I  always  wanted  to  camp  out  and  watch 
the  stars,"  he  told  Silver  stoutly.  "  Honest  to  gran'ma, 
I  think  this  is  just  —  simply  —  great!  I  bet  them 
nester  kids  would  be  scared.  Hunh !  " 

That  helped  a  lot.  The  Kid  could  whistle  better 
after  that.  He  pulled  off  the  saddle,  laid  it  down  on  its 


228    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

side  so  that  the  skirts  would  not  bend  out  of  shape  — 
oh,  he  had  been  well-taught,  with  the  whole  Happy 
Family  for  his  worshipful  tutors !  —  and  untied  the 
rope  from  beside  the  fork.  "  I'll  have  to  anchor  you 
to  a  tree,  old-timer,"  he  told  the  horse  briskly.  "  I'd 
sure  hate  to  be  set  afoot  in  this  man's  country  1  "  And 
a  minute  later  — "  Oh,  f under !  I  never  brought  you 
any  sugar !  " 

Would  you  believe  it,  that  small  child  of  the  Fly- 
ing U  picketed  his  horse  where  the  grass  was  best, 
and  the  knots  he  tied  were  the  knots  his  dad  would  have 
tied  in  his  place.  He  unrolled  his  blanket  and  carried 
it  to  the  sheltered  little  nook  under  the  ledge,  and 
dragged  the  bag  of  doughnuts  and  the  jelly  and  honey 
and  bread  after  it.  He  had  heard  about  thievish 
animals  that  will  carry  off  bacon  and  flour  and  such. 
He  knew  that  he  ought  to  hang  his  grub  in  a  tree,  but 
he  could  not  reach  up  as  far  as  the  fox  who  might  try 
to  help  himself,  so  that  was  out  of  the  question. 

The  Kid  ate  a  doughnut  while  he  studied  the  matter 
out  for  himself.  "  If  a  coyote  or  a  skink  came  pester- 
ing around  me,  I'd  frow  rocks  at  him,"  he  said.  So 
when  he  had  finished  the  doughnut  he  collected  a  pile 
of  rocks.  He  ate  another  doughnut,  went  over  and 
laid  himself  down  on  his  stomach  the  way  the  boys 
did,  and  drank  from  the  little  creek.  It  was  just 


"RELL    OLD    COWPUNCHER"     229 

a  chance  that  lie  had  not  come  upon  water  tainted  with 
alkali  —  but  fate  is  kind  sometimes. 

So  the  Kid,  trying  very,  very  hard  to  act  just  like 
his  Daddy  Chip  and  the  boys,  flopped  the  blanket 
vigorously  this  way  and  that  in  an  effort  to  get  it 
straightened,  flopped  himself  on  his  knees  and  folded 
the  blanket  round  and  round  him  until  he  looked  like 
a  large,  gray  cocoon,  and  cuddled  himself  under  the 
ledge  with  his  head  on  the  bag  of  doughnuts  and  his 
wide  eyes  fixed  upon  the  first  pale  stars  and  his  mind 
clinging  sturdily  to  his  mission  and  to  this  first  real, 
man-sized  adventure  that  had  come  into  his  small  life. 

It  was  very  big  and  very  empty  —  that  canyon.  He 
lifted  his  yellow  head  and  looked  to  see  if  Silver  were 
there,  and  was  comforted  at  the  sight  of  his  vague  bulk 
close  by,  and  by  the  steady  kr-up,  Jcr-up  of  bitten  grasses. 

"  I'm  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher,  all  right,"  he  told  him- 
self bravely;  but  he  had  to  blink  his  eyelashes  pretty 
fast  when  he  said  it.  A  "  rell  ole  cowpuncher " 
wouldn't  cry!  He  was  afraid  Doctor  Dell  would  be 
awfully  s'prised,  though  .  .  . 

An  unexpected  sob  broke  loose,  and  another.  He 
wasn't  afraid  —  but  .  .  .  Silver,  cropping  steadily  at 
the  grass  which  must  be  his  only  supper,  turned  and 
came  slowly  toward  the  Kid  in  his  search  for  sweeter 
grass-tufts.  The  Kid  choked  off  the  third  sob  and  sat 


230     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

up  ashamed.     He  tugged  at  the  bag  and  made  believe 
to  Silver  that  his  sole  trouble  was  with  his  pillow. 

"  By  cripes,  that  damn'  jelly  glass  digs  right  into 
my  ear,"  he  complained  aloud,  to  help  along  the  decep- 
tion. "  You  go  back,  old-timer  —  I'm  all  right.  I'm  a 
—  rell  —  ole  cowpuncher ;  ain't  I,  old-timer  ?  We're 
makin'  a  dry-camp,  just  like  —  Happy  Jack.  I'm  a 
rell  —  ole  — "  The  Kid  went  to  sleep  before  he  finished 
saying  it.  There  is  nothing  like  the  open  air  to  make 
one  sleep  from  dusk  till  dawn.  The  rell  ole  cow- 
puncher  forgot  his  little  white  bed  in  the  corner  of  the 
big  bedroom.  He  forgot  that  Doctor  Dell  would  be 
awfully  s'prised,  and  that  Daddy  Chip  would  maybe  be 
cross  —  Daddy  Chip  was  cross,  sometimes.  The  rell  ole 
cowpuncher  lay  with  his  yellow  curls  pillowed  on  the 
bag  of  doughnuts  and  the  gray  blanket  wrapped  tightly 
around  him,  and  slept  soundly;  and  his  lips  were 
curved  in  the  half  smile  that  came  often  to  his  sleep- 
ing face  and  made  him  look  ever  so  much  like  his  Daddy 
Chip. 


CHAPTEK  XVII 


find  'im?"  The  Old  Man  had  limped 
down  to  the  big  gate  and  stood  there  bare- 
headed under  the  stars,  waiting,  hoping  —  fearing  to 
hear  the  answer. 

"  Hasn't  he  showed  Tip  yet  ?  "  Chip  and  the  Little 
Doctor  rode  out  of  the  gloom  and  stopped  before  the 
gate.  Chip  did  not  wait  for  an  answer.  One  question 
answered  the  other  and  there  was  no  need  for  more. 
"  I  brought  Dell  home/'  he  said.  "  She's  about  all  in 
—  and  he's  just  as  likely  to  come  back  himself  as  we 
are  to  run  across  him.  Silver'll  bring  him  home,  all 
right.  He  can't  be  —  yuh  can't  lose  a  horse.  You 
go  up  to  the  house  and  lie  down,  Dell.  I  —  the  Kid's 
all  right." 

His  voice  held  all  the  tenderness  of  the  lover,  and  all 
the  protectiveness  of  the  husband  and  all  the  agony  of 
a  father  —  but  Chip  managed  to  keep  it  firm  and  even 
for  all  that.  He  lifted  the  Little  Doctor  bodily  from 
the  saddle,  held  her  very  close  in  his  arms  for  a  minute, 
kissed  her  twice  and  pushed  her  gently  through  the  gate. 


232    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  You  better  stay  right  here,"  he  said  authoritatively, 
"  and  rest  and  look  after  J.G.  You  can't  do  any  good 
riding  —  and  you  don't  want  to  be  gone  when  he  comes." 
He  reached  over  the  gate,  got  hold  of  her  arm  and 
pulled  her  towards  him.  "  Buck  up,  old  girl,"  he 
whispered,  and  kissed  her  linger ingly.  "  Now's  the 
time  to  show  the  stuff  you're  made  off.  You  needn't 
worry  one  minute  about  that  kid.  He's  the  goods,  all 
right.  Yuh  couldn't  lose  him  if  you  tried.  Go  up  and 
go  to  bed." 

"  Go  to  bed !  "  echoed  the  Little  Doctor  and  sardoni- 
cally. "  J.  G.,  are  you  sure  he  didn't  say  anything  about 
going  anywhere  ? " 

"  No.  He  was  settin'  there  on  the  porch  tormentin' 
the  cat."  The  Old  Man  swallowed  a  lump.  "  I  told 
him  to  quit.  He  set  there  a  while  after  that  —  I  was 
talkin'  to  Blake.  I  dunno  where  he  went  to.  I 


was  — " 


"'S  that  you,  Dell?  Did  yuh  find  ?im?"  The 
Countess  came  flapping  down  the  path  in  a  faded,  red 
kimono.  "  What  under  the  shinin'  sun's  went  with  him, 
do  yuh  s'pose?  Yuh  never  know  what  a  day's  got  up 
its  sleeve — 'n  I  always  said  it.  Man  plans  and  God 
displans  —  the  poor  little  tad'll  be  scairt  plumb  to 
death,  out  all  alone  in  the  dark  — " 

"  Oh,  for  heaven's  sake  shut  up !  "  cried  the  tortured 


"LOST    CHILD!"  238: 

Little  Doctor,  and  fled  past  her  up  the  path  as  though 
she  had  some  hope  of  running  away  from  the  torment- - 
ing  thoughts  also.  "  Poor  little  tad,  all  alone  in  the- 
dark," —  the  words  followed  her  and  were  like  sword, 
thrusts  through  the  mother  heart  of  her.  Then  Chip* 
overtook  her,  knowing  too  well  the  hurt  which  the. 
Countess  had  given  with  her  blundering  anxiety.  Just 
at  the  porch  he  caught  up  with  her,  and  she  clung  to 
him,  sobbing  wildly. 

"  You  don't  want  to  mind  what  that  old  hen  says,"7 
he  told  her  brusquely.  "  She's  got  to  do  just  so  much: 
cackling  or  she'd  choke,  I  reckon.  The  Kid's  all  right.. 
Some  of  the  boys  have  run  across  him  by  this  time,  most 
likely,  and  are  bringing  him  in.  He'll  be  good  and 
hungry,  and  the  scare  will  do  him  good."  He  forced^ 
himself  to  speak  as  though  the  Kid  had  merely  fallen 
off  the  corral  fence,  or  something  like  that.  "  You've 
got  to  make  up  your  mind  to  these  things,"  he  argued,. 
"  if  you  tackle  raising  a  boy,  Dell.  Why,  I'll  bet  I  ran 
off  and  scared  my  folks  into  fits  fifty  times  when  I  was. 
a  kid." 

"  But  —  he's  —  just  a  baby !  "  sobbed  the  Little  Doc- 
tor with  her  face  pressed  hard  against  Chip's  strong, 
comforting  shoulder. 

"  He's  a  little  devil !  "  amended  Chip  fiercely.  "  He 
ought  to  be  walloped  for  scaring  you  like  this.  He's, 


234     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

just  as  capable  of  looking  after  himself  as  most  kids 
twice  his  size.  He'll  get  hungry  and  head  for  home 
>  —  and  if  he  don't  know  the  way,  Silver  does  ;  so  he 


"  But  he  may  have  fallen  and  —  " 

"  Come,  now  !     Haven't  you  got  any  more  sense  than 

the  Countess  ?     If  you  insist  on  thinking  up  horrors  to 

scare  yourself  with,  I  don't  know  as  anybody  can  stop 

you.     Dell  !     Brace  up  and  quit  worrying.     I  tell  you 

-he's  —  all  right!" 

That  did  well  enough  —  seeing  the  Little  Doctor  did 
not  get  a  look  at  Chip's  face,  which  was  white  and  drawn, 
with  sunken,  haggard  eyes  staring  into  the  dark  over 
her  head.  He  kissed  her  hastily  and  told  her  he  must 
go,  and  that  he'd  hurry  back  as  soon  as  he  could.  So  he 
went  half  running  down  the  path  and  passed  the 
Countess  and  the  Old  Man  without  a  word;  piled  onto 
his  horse  and  went  off  up  the  hill  road  again. 

They  could  not  get  it  out  of  their  minds  that  the  Kid 
must  have  ridden  up  on  the  bluff  to  meet  his  mother, 
had  been  too  early  to  meet  her  —  for  the  Little  Doctor 
had  come  home  rather  later  than  she  expected  to 
do  —  and  had  wandered  off  to  visit  the  boys,  perhaps, 
or  to  meet  his  Daddy  Chip  who  was  over  there  some- 
where on  the  bench  trying  to  figure  out  a  system  of 
.ditches  that  might  logically  be  expected  to  water  the 


"LOST    CHILD!"  235 

desert  claims  of  the  Happy  Family  —  if  they  could  get 
the  water. 

They  firmly  believed  that  the  kid  had  gone  up  on  the 
hill,  and  so  they  hunted  for  him  up  there.  The  Honor- 
able Blake  had  gone  to  Dry  Lake  and  taken  the  train  for 
Great  Falls,  before  ever  the  Kid  had  been  really  missed. 
The  Old  Man  had  not  seen  the  Kid  ride  up  the  hill  — 
but  he  had  been  sitting  with  his  chair  turned  away 
from  the  road,  and  he  was  worried  about  other  things 
and  so  might  easily  have  missed  seeing  him.  The 
Countess  had  been  taking  a  nap,  and  she  was  not  ex- 
pected to  know  anything  about  his  departure.  And  she 
had  not  looked  into  the  doughnut  jar  —  indeed,  she  was 
so  upset  by  supper  time  that,  had  she  looked,  she  would 
not  have  missed  the  doughnuts.  For  the  same  reason 
Ole  did  not  miss  his  blanket.  Ole  had  not  been  near 
his  bed;  he  was  out  riding  and  searching  and  calling 
through  the  coulee  and  up  toward  the  old  Denson  place. 

No  one  dreamed  that  the  Kid  had  started  out  with  a 
camp-outfit  —  if  one  might  call  it  that  —  and  with  the 
intention  of  joining  the  Happy  Family  in  the  breaks, 
and  of  helping  them  gather  their  cattle.  How  could 
they  dream  that  ?  How  could  they  realize  that  a  child 
who  still  liked  to  be  told  bedtime  stories  and  to  be  rocked 
to  sleep,  should  harbor  such  man-size  thoughts  and  am- 


236     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

bitions  ?  How  could  they  know  that  the  Kid  was  being 
"  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher  "  ? 

That  night  the  whole  Happy  Family,  just  returned 
from  the  Badlands  and  warned  by  Chip  at  dusk  that 
the  Kid  was  missing,  hunted  the  coulees  that  bordered 
the  benchland.  A  few  of  the  nesters  who  had  horses 
.and  could  ride  them  hunted  also.  The  men  who  worked 
at  the  Flying  U  hunted,  and  Chip  hunted  frantically. 
Chip  just  about  worshipped  that  kid,  and  in  spite  of  his 
calmness  and  his  optimism  when  he  talked  to  the  Lit- 
tle Doctor,  you  can  imagine  the  state  of  mind  he  was 
in. 

At  sunrise  they  straggled  in  to  the  ranch,  caught  up 
fresh  horses,  swallowed  a  cup  of  coffee  and  what  food 
they  could  choke  down  and  started  out  again.  At  nine 
o'clock  a  party  came  out  from  Dry  Lake,  learned  that 
the  Kid  was  not  yet  found,  and  went  out  under  a  cap- 
tain to  comb  systematically  through  the  hills  and  the 
•coulees. 

Before  night  all  the  able-bodied  men  in  the  country 
—  and  some  who  were  not  —  were  searching.  It  is 
astonishing  how  quickly  a  small  army  will  volunteer  in 
such  an  emergency ;  and  it  doesn't  seem  to  matter  very 
much  that  the  country  seems  big  and  empty  of  people 
ordinarily.  They  come  from  somewhere,  when  they 
-are  needed. 


"LOST    CHILD!"  237 

The  Little  Doctor  —  oh,  let  us  not  talk  about  the  Lit- 
tle Doctor.  Such  agonies  as  she  suffered  go  too  deep* 
for  words. 

The  next  day  after  that,  Chip  saddled  a  horse  and 
let  her  ride  beside  him.  Chip  was  afraid  to  leave  her 
at  the  ranch  —  afraid  that  she  would  go  mad.  So  he 
let  her  ride  —  they  rode  together.  They  did  not  go  far 
from  the  ranch.  There  was  always  the  fear  that  some- 
one might  bring  him  in  while  they  were  gone.  That, 
fear  drove  them  hack,  every  hour  or  two.  Then  another 
fear  would  drive  them  forth  again. 

Up  in  another  county  there  is  a  creek  called  Lost 
Child  Creek.  A  child  was  lost  —  or  was  it  two  chil- 
dren ?  —  and  men  hunted  and  hunted  and  hunted,  and 
it  was  months  before  anything  was  found.  Then  a  cow- 
boy riding  that  way  found  —  just  bones.  Chip  knew 
about  that  creek  which  is  called  Lost  Child.  He  had 
been  there  and  he  had  heard  the  story,  and  he  had  seen 
the  father  and  had  shuddered  —  and  that  was  long 
before  he  had  known  the  feeling  a  father  has  for  his. 
child.  What  he  was  deadly  afraid  of  now  was  that  the 
Little  Doctor  would  hear  about  that  creek,  and  how  it 
had  gotten  its  name. 

What  he  dreaded  most  for  himself  was  to  think  of 
that  creek.  He  kept  the  Little  Doctor  beside  him  and 
away  from  that  Job's  comforter,  the  Countess,  and  tried 


238     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

to  keep  her  hope  alive  while  the  hours  dragged  their 
leaden  feet  over  the  hearts  of  them  all. 

A  camp  was  hastily  organized  in  One  Man  Coulee, 
and  another  out  beyond  Denson's  place,  and  men  went 
there  to  the  camps  for  a  little  food  and  a  little  rest,  when 
they  could  hold  out  no  longer.  Chip  and  the  Little  Doc- 
tor rode  from  camp  to  camp,  intercepted  every  party  of 
searchers  they  glimpsed  on  the  horizon,  and  came  back 
to  the  ranch,  hollow-eyed  and  silent  for  the  most  part. 
They  would  rest  an  hour,  perhaps.  Then  they  would 
ride  out  again. 

The  Happy  Family  seemed  never  to  think  of  eating, 
never  to  want  sleep.  Two  days  —  three  days  —  four 
days  —  the  days  became  a  nightmare.  Irish,  with  a 
warrant  out  for  his  arrest,  rode  with  the  constable,  per- 
haps—  if  the  search  chanced  to  lead  them  together.  Or 
with  Big  Medicine,  whom  he  had  left  in  hot  anger. 
H.  J.  Owens  and  those  other  claim-jumpers  hunted  with 
the  Happy  Family  and  apparently  gave  not  a  thought 
to  claims. 

Miss  Allen  started  out  on  the  second  day  and  hunted 
through  all  the  coulees  and  gulches  in  the  neighborhood 
of  her  claim  —  coulees  and  gulches  that  had  been 
searched  frantically  two  or  three  times  before.  She 
had  no  time  to  make  whimsical  speeches  to  Andy  Green, 
nor  he  to  listen.  When  they  met,  each  asked  the  other 


"LOST    CHILD!"  239* 

for  news,  and  separated  without  a  thought  for  each 
other.     The  Kid  —  they  must  find  him  —  they  must. 

The  third  day,  Miss  Allen  put  up  a  lunch,  told  her 
three  claim  partners  that  she  should  not  come  back 
until  night  unless  that  poor  child  was  found,  and  that 
they  need  not  look  for  her  before  dark  and  set  out  with 
the  twinkle  all  gone  from  her  humorous  brown  eyes  and 
her  mouth  very  determined. 

She  met  Pink  and  the  Native  Son  and  was  struck 
with  the  change  which  two  days  of  killing  anxiety  had 
made  in  them.  True,  they  had  not  slept  for  forty-eight 
hours,  except  an  hour  or  two  after  they  had  been  forced 
to  stop  and  eat.  True,  they  had  not  eaten  except  in 
snatches.  But  it  was  not  that  alone  which  made  their 
faces  look  haggard  and  old  and  haunted.  They,  too, 
were  thinking  of  Lost  Child  Creek  and  how  it  had  gotten 
its  name. 

Miss  Allen  gleaned  a  little  information  from  them 
regarding  the  general  whereabouts  of  the  various  search- 
ing parties.  And  then,  having  learned  that  the  foothills 
of  the  mountains  were  being  searched  minutely  because 
the  Kid  might  have  taken  a  notion  to  visit  Meeker's; 
and  that  the  country  around  Wolf  Butte  was  being 
searched,  because  he  had  once  told  Big  Medicine  that 
when  he  got  bigger  and  his  dad  would  let  him,  he  was 
going  over  there  and  kill  wolves  to  make  Doctor  Dell 


•240     FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

some  nigs:  and  that  the  country  toward  the  river  was 
being  searched  because  the  Kid  always  wanted  to  see 
where  the  Happy  Family  drove  the  sheep  to,  that  time 
when  Happy  Jack  got  shot  under  the  arm ;  that  all  the 
places  the  Kid  had  seemed  most  interested  in  were 
being  searched  minutely  —  if  it  could  be  possible  to 
search  minutely  a  country  the  size  of  that!  Having 
learned  all  that,  Miss  Allen  struck  off  by  herself, 
•straight  down  into  the  Badlands  where  nobody  seemed 
to  have  done  much  searching. 

The  reason  for  that  was,  that  the  Happy  Family  had 
'come  out  of  the  breaks  on  the  day  that  the  Kid  was  lost. 
They  had  not  ridden  together,  but  in  twos  and  threes 
because  they  drove  out  several  small  bunches  of  cattle 
that  they  had  gleaned,  to  a  common  centre  in  One  Man 
'Coulee.  They  had  traveled  by  the  most  feasible  routes 
through  that  rough  country,  and  they  had  seen  no 
sign  of  the  Kid  or  any  other  rider. 

They  did  not  believe  that  he  had  come  over  that  far, 
or  even  in  that  direction;  because  a  horseman  would 
almost  certainly  have  been  sighted  by  some  of  them  in 
crossing  a  ridge  somewhere. 

It  never  occurred  to  anyone  that  the  Kid  might  go 
down  Flying  IT  Creek  and  so  into  the  breaks  and  the 
Badlands.  Flying  U  Creek  was  fenced,  and  the  wire 
-gate  was  in  its  place  —  Chip  had  looked  down  along 


"LOST    CHILD!"  241 

there,  the  first  night,  and  had  found  the  gate  up  just  as 
it  always  was  kept.  Why  should  he  suspect  that  the 
Kid  had  managed  to  open  that  gate  and  to  close  it  after 
him  ?  A  little  fellow  like  that  ? 

So  the  searching  parties,  having  no  clue  to  that  one 
incident  which  would  at  least  have  sent  them  in  the 
right  direction,  kept  to  the  outlying  fringe  of  gulches 
which  led  into  the  broken  edge  of  the  benchland, 
and  to  the  country  west  and  north  and  south  of  those 
gulches.  At  that,  there  was  enough  broken  country 
to  keep  them  busy  for  several  days,  even  when  you  con- 
sider the  number  of  searchers. 

Miss  Allen  did  not  want  to  go  tagging  along  with 
some  party.  She  did  not  feel  as  if  she  could  do  any 
good  that  way,  and  she  wanted  to  do  some  good.  She 
wanted  to  find  that  poor  little  fellow  and  take  him  to 
his  mother.  She  had  met  his  mother,  just  the  day 
before,  and  had  ridden  with  her  for  several  miles.  The 
look  in  the  Little  Doctor's  eyes  haunted  Miss  Allen  un- 
til she  felt  sometimes  as  if  she  must  scream  curses  to 
the  heavens  for  so  torturing  a  mother.  And  that  was 
not  all ;  she  had  looked  into  Chip's  face,  last  night  — 
and  she  had  gone  home  and  cried  until  she  could  cry  no 
more,  just  with  the  pity  of  it. 

She  left  the  more  open  valley  and  rode  down  a  long, 
twisting  canyon  that  was  lined  with  cliffs  so  that  it 


242     FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

was  impossible  to  climb  out  with  a  horse.  She  was  sure 
she  could  not  get  lost  or  turned  around,  in  a  place  like 
that,  and  it  seemed  to  her  as  hopeful  a  place  to  search  as 
any.  When  you  came  to  that,  they  all  had  to  ride  at 
random  and  trust  to  luck,  for  there  was  not  the  faintest 
clue  to  guide  them.  So  Miss  Allen  considered  that  she 
could  do  no  better  than  search  all  the  patches  of  brush  in 
the  canyon,  and  keep  on  going. 

The  canyon  ended  abruptly  in  a  little  flat,  which  she 
crossed.  She  had  not  seen  the  tracks  of  any  horse  go- 
ing down,  but  when  she  was  almost  across  the  flat  she 
discovered  tracks  of  cattle,  and  now  and  then  the  print 
of  a  shod  hoof.  Miss  Allen  began  to  pride  herself  on 
her  astuteness  in  reading  these  signs.  They  meant  that 
some  of  the  Happy  Family  had  driven  cattle  this  way ; 
which  meant  that  they  would  have  seen  little  Claude 
Bennett  —  that  was  the  Kid's  real  name,  which  no  one 
except  perfect  strangers  ever  used  —  they  would  have 
seen  the  Kid  or  his  tracks,  if  he  had  ridden  down  here. 

Miss  Allen,  then,  must  look  farther  than  this.  She 
hesitated  before  three  or  four  feasible  outlets  to  the  lit- 
tle flat,  and  chose  the  one  farthest  to  the  right.  That 
carried  her  farther  south,  and  deeper  into  a  maze  of 
gulches  and  gorges  and  small,  hidden  valleys.  She  did 
not  stop,  but  she  began  to  see  that  it  was  going  to  be  pure 
chance,  or  the  guiding  hand  of  a  tender  Providence,  if 


"LOST    CHILD!"  243 

one  ever  did  find  anybody  in  this  horrible  jumble.  She 
had  never  seen  such  a  mess.  She  believed  that  poor  lit- 
tle tot  had  come  down  in  here,  after  all;  she  could  not 
see  why,  but  then  you  seldom  did  know  why  children 
took  a  notion  to  do  certain  unbelievable  things.  Miss 
Allen  had  taught  the  primary  grade  in  a  city  school,  and 
she  knew  a  little  about  small  boys  and  girls  and  the  big 
ideas  they  sometimes  harbored. 

She  rode  and  rode,  trying  to  put  herself  mentally 
in  the  Kid's  place.  Trying  to  pick  up  the  thread  of 
logical  thought  —  children  were  logical  sometimes; 
startlingly  so. 

"  I  wonder,'7  she  thought  suddenly,  "  if  he  started 
out  with  the  idea  of  hunting  cattle !  I  wouldn't  be  a  bit 
surprised  if  he  did  —  living  on  a  cattle  ranch,  and 
probably  knowing  that  the  men  were  down  here  some- 
where." Miss  Allen,  you  see,  came  pretty  close  to  the 
truth  with  her  guess. 

Still,  that  did  not  help  her  find  the  Kid.  She  saw 
a  high,  bald  peak  standing  up  at  the  mouth  of  the 
gorge  down  which  she  was  at  that  time  picking  her 
way,  and  she  made  up  her  mind  to  climb  that  peak  and 
see  if  she  might  not  find  him  by  looking  from  that 
point  of  vantage.  So  she  rode  to  the  foot  of  the  pin- 
nacle, tied  her  horse  to  a  bush  and  began  to  climb. 

Peaks  like  that  are  very  deceptive  in  their  height. 


244    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Miss  Allen  was  slim  and  her  lungs  were  perfect,  and  she 
climbed  steadily  and  as  fast  as  she  dared.  For  all  that 
it  took  her  a  long  while  to  reach  the  top  —  much  longer 
than  she  expected.  When  she  reached  the  black  rock 
that  looked,  from  the  bottom,  like  the  highest  point  of 
the  hill,  she  found  that  she  had  not  gone  much  more  than 
two-thirds  of  the  way  up,  and  that  the  real  peak  sloped 
back  so  that  it  could  not  be  seen  from  below  at  all. 

Miss  Allen  was  a  persistent  young  woman.  She  kept 
climbing  until  she  did  finally  reach  the  highest  point, 
and  could  look  down  into  gorges  and  flats  and  tiny 
basins  and  canyons  and  upon  peaks  and  ridges  and 
worm-like  windings,  and  patches  of  timber  and  patches 
of  grass  and  patches  of  barren  earth  and  patches  of 
rocks  all  jumbled  up  together — .  Miss  Allen  gasped 
from  something  more  than  the  climb,  and  sat  down  upon 
a  rock,  stricken  with  a  sudden,  overpowering  weakness. 

"  God  in  heaven !  "  she  whispered,  appalled.  "  What 
a  place  to  get  lost  in !  " 

She  sat  there  a  while  and  stared  dejectedly  down 
upon  that  wild  orgy  of  the  earth's  upheaval  which  is  the 
Badlands.  She  felt  as  though  it  was  sheer  madness 
even  to  think  of  finding  anybody  in  there.  It  was 
worse  than  a  mountain  country,  because  in  the  moun- 
tains there  is  a  certain  semblance  of  some  system  in 
the  canyons  and  high  ridges  and  peaks.  Here  every- 


"LOST    CHILD!"  245 

thing  —  peaks,  gorges,  tiny  valleys  and  all  —  seemed  to 
be  just  dumped  down  together.  Peaks  rose  from  the 
middle  of  canyons;  canyons  were  half  the  time  blind 
pockets  that  ended  abruptly  against  a  cliff. 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried  aloud,  jumping  up  and  gesticulat- 
ing wildly.  "Baby!  Little  Claude!  Here!  Look 
up  this  way !  "  She  saw  him,  down  below,  on  the  op- 
posite side  from  where  she  had  left  her  horse. 

The  Kid  was  riding  slowly  up  a  gorge.  Silver  was 
picking  his  way  carefully  over  the  rocks  —  they  looked 
tiny,  down  there!  And  they  were  not  going  toward 
home,  by  any  means.  They  were  headed  directly  away 
from  home. 

The  cheeks  of  Miss  Allen  were  wet  while  she  shouted 
and  called  and  waved  her  hands.  He  was  alive,  any- 
way. Oh,  if  his  mother  could  only  be  told  that  he  was 
alive !  Oh,  why  weren't  there  telephones  or  something, 
where  they  were  needed!  If  his  poor  mother  could 
see  him ! 

Miss  Allen  called  again,  and  the  Kid  heard  her. 
She  was  sure  that  he  heard  her,  because  he  stopped  — 
that  pitiful,  tiny  speck  down  there  on  the  horse !  — 
and  she  thought  he  looked  up  at  her.  Yes,  she  was 
sure  he  heard  her,  and  that  finally  he  saw  her ;  because 
he  took  off  his  hat  and  waved  it  over  his  head  —  just 
like  a  man,  the  poor  baby ! 


246     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Miss  Allen  considered  going  straight  down  to  him, 
and  then  walking  around  to  where  her  horse  was  tied. 
She  was  afraid  to  leave  him  while  she  went  for  the 
horse  and  rode  around  to  where  he  was.  She  was  afraid 
she  might  miss  him  somehow  —  the  Badlands  had 
stamped  that  fear  deep  into  her  soul. 

"  Wait !  "  she  shouted,  her  hands  cupped  around  her 
trembling  lips,  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks.  "  Wait, 
baby !  I'm  coming  for  you."  She  hoped  that  the  Kid 
heard  what  she  said,  but  she  could  not  be  sure,  for  she 
did  not  hear  him  reply.  But  he  did  not  go  on  at  once, 
and  she  thought  he  would  wait. 

Miss  Allen  picked  up  her  skirts  away  from  her  ankles 
and  started  running  down  the  steep  slope.  The  Kid, 
away  down  below,  stared  up  at  her.  She  went  down  a 
third  of  the  way,  and  stopped  just  in  time  to  save  her- 
self from  going  over  a  sheer  wall  of  rock  —  stopped  be- 
cause a  rock  which  she  dislodged  with  her  foot  rolled 
down  the  slope  a  few  feet,  gave  a  leap  into  space  and 
disappeared. 

A  step  at  a  time  Miss  Allen  crept  down  to  where  the 
rock  had  bounced  off  into  nothingness,  and  gave  one 
look  and  crouched  close  to  the  earth.  A  hundred  feet, 
it  must  be,  straight  down.  After  the  first  shock  she 
looked  to  the  right  and  the  left  and  saw  that  she  must 
go  back,  and  down  upon  the  other  side. 


"LOST    CHILD!"  247 

Away  down  there  at  the  bottom,  the  Kid  sat  still  on 
his  horse  and  stared  up  at  her.  And  Miss  Allen,  call- 
ing to  him  that  she  would  come,  started  back  up  to  the 
peak. 


CHAPTEE  XVIII 

THE    LONG    WAY    BOUND 

MISS  ALLEN"  turned  to  call  encouragingly  to  the 
Kid,  and  she  saw  that  he  was  going  on  slowly, 
his  head  turned  to  watch  her.  She  told  him  to  wait 
where  he  was,  and  she  would  come  around  the  mountain 
and  get  him  and  take  him  home.  "  Do  you  hear  me, 
baby  ? "  she  asked  imploringly  after  she  had  told  him 
just  what  she  meant  to  do.  "  Answer  me,  baby !  " 

"  I  ain't  a  baby !  "  his  voice  came  faintly  shrill  after 
a  minute.  "  I'm  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher !  " 

Miss  Allen  thought  that  was  what  he  said,  but  at  the 
time  she  did  not  quite  understand,  except  his  denial  of 
being  a  baby;  that  was  clear  enough.  She  turned  to 
the  climb,  feeling  that  she  must  hurry  if  she  expected 
to  get  him  and  take  him  home  before  dark.  She  knew 
that  every  minute  was  precious  and  must  not  be  wasted. 
It  was  well  after  noon  —  she  had  forgotten  to  eat  her 
lunch,  but  her  watch  said  it  was  nearly  one  o'clock  al- 
ready. She  had  no  idea  how  far  she  had  ridden,  but 
she  thought  it  must  be  twelve  miles  at  least. 

She  had  no  idea,  either,  how  far  she  had  run  down 


THE    LONG   WAY   ROUND     249 

the  butte  to  the  cliff  —  until  she  began  to  climb  back. 
Every  rod  or  so  she  stopped  to  rest  and  to  look  below, 
and  to  call  to  the  Kid  who  seemed  such  a  tiny  mite  of 
humanity  among  those  huge  peaks  and  fearsome  gorges. 
He  seemed  to  be  watching  her  very  closely  —  always 
when  she  looked  she  could  see  the  pink  blur  of  his  little, 
upturned  face.  She  must  hurry.  Oh,  if  she  could  only 
send  a  wireless  to  his  mother !  Human  inventions  fell 
far  short  of  the  big  needs,  after  all,  she  thought  as  she 
toiled  upward. 

From  the  top  of  the  peak  she  could  see  the  hazy  out- 
line of  the  Bear  Paws,  and  she  knew  just  about  where 
the  Flying  U  Coulee  lay.  She  imagined  that  she  could 
distinguish  the  line  of  its  bluff  in  the  far  distance.  It 
was  not  so  very  far  —  but  she  could  not  get  any  word 
of  cheer  across  the  quivering  air  lanes.  She  turned  and 
looked  wishfully  down  at  the  Kid,  a  tinier  speck  now 
than  before  —  for  she  had  climbed  quite  a  distance. 
She  waved  her  hand  to  him,  and  her  warm  brown  eyes 
held  a  maternal  tenderness.  He  waved  his  hat  —  just 
like  a  man ;  he  must  be  brave !  she  thought.  She  turned 
reluctantly  and  went  hurrying  down  the  other  side,  her 
blood  racing  with  the  joy  of  having  found  him,  and  of 
knowing  that  he  was  safe. 

It  seemed  to  take  a  long  time  to  climb  down  that 
peak;  much  longer  than  she  thought  it  would  take. 


250     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

She  looked  at  her  watch  nervously  —  two  o'clock,  al- 
most !  She  must  hurry,  or  they  would  be  in  the  dark 
getting  home.  That  did  not  worry  her  very  much, 
however,  for  there  would  be  searching  parties  —  she 
would  be  sure  to  strike  one  somewhere  in  the  hills  be- 
fore dark. 

She  came  finally  down  to  the  level  —  except  that  it 
was  not  level  at  all,  but  a  trough-shaped  gulch  that 
looked  unfamiliar.  Still,  it  was  the  same  one  she  had 
used  as  a  starting  point  when  she  began  to  climb  —  of 
course  it  was  the  same  one.  How  in  the  world  could  a 
person  get  turned  around  going  straight  up  the  side  of 
a  hill  and  straight  down  again  in  the  very  same  place  ? 
This  was  the  gorge  where  her  horse  was  tied,  only  it 
might  be  that  she  was  a  little  below  the  exact  spot ;  that 
could  happen,  of  course.  So  Miss  Allen  went  up  the 
gorge  until  it  petered  out  against  the  face  of  the  moun- 
tain —  one  might  as  well  call  it  a  mountain  and  be  done 
with  it,  for  it  certainly  was  more  than  a  mere  hill. 

It  was  some  time  before  Miss  Allen  would  admit  to 
herself  that  she  had  missed  the  gorge  where  she  had  left 
her  horse,  and  that  she  did  not  know  where  the  gorge 
was,  and  that  she  did  not  know  where  she  was  herself. 
She  had  gone  down  the  mouth  of  the  gulch  before  she 
made  any  admissions,  and  she  had  seen  not  one  solitary 
thing  that  she  could  remember  having  ever  seen  before. 


THE    LONG   WAY   ROUND     251 

Not  even  the  peak  she  had  climbed  looked  familiar  from 
where  she  was.  She  was  not  perfectly  sure  that  it  was 
the  same  peak  when  she  looked  at  it. 

Were  you  ever  lost  ?  It  is  a  very  peculiar  sensation 
—  the  feeling  that  you  are  adrift  in  a  world  that  is 
strange.  Miss  Allen  had  never  been  lost  before  in  her 
life.  If  she  had  been,  she  would  have  been  more  care- 
ful, and  would  have  made  sure  that  she  was  descending 
that  peak  by  the  exact  route  she  had  followed  up  it,  in- 
stead of  just  taking  it  for  granted  that  all  she  need  do 
was  get  to  the  bottom. 

After  an  hour  or  two  she  decided  to  climb  the  peak 
again,  get  her  bearings  from  the  top  and  come  down 
more  carefully.  She  was  wild  with  apprehension  — 
though  I  must  say  it  was  not  for  her  own  plight  but  on 
account  of  the  Kid.  So  she  climbed.  And  then  every- 
thing looked  so  different  that  she  believed  she  had 
climbed  another  hill  entirely.  So  she  went  down  again, 
and  turned  into  a  gorge  which  seemed  to  lead  in  the  di- 
rection where  she  had  seen  the  little  lost  boy.  She  fol- 
lowed that  quite  a  long  way  —  and  that  one  petered 
out  like  the  first. 

Miss  Allen  found  the  gorges  filling  up  with  shadows, 
and  she  looked  up  and  saw  the  sky  crimson  and  gold, 
and  she  knew  then  without  any  doubts  that  she  was  lost. 
Miss  Allen  was  a  brave  young  woman,  or  she  would  not 


252     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

have  been  down  in  that  country  in  the  first  place;  but 
just  the  same  she  sat  down  with  her  back  against  a  clay 
bank  and  cried  because  of  the  eeriness  and  the  silence, 
and  because  she  was  hungry  and  she  knew  she  was  going 
to  be  cold  before  morning  —  but  mostly  because  she 
could  not  find  that  poor,  brave  little  baby  boy  who  had 
waved  his  hat  when  she  left  him,  and  shouted  that  he 
was  not  a  baby. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  pulled  herself  together  and  went 
on;  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  sitting  in  one 
place  and  worrying.  She  walked  until  it  was  too  dark 
to  see,  and  then,  because  she  had  come  upon  a  little,  level 
canyon  bottom  —  though  one  that  was  perfectly  strange 
—  she  stopped  there  where  a  high  bank  sheltered  her 
from  the  wind  that  was  too  cool  for  comfort.  She 
called,  a  few  times,  until  she  was  sure  that  the  child  was 
not  within  hearing.  After  that  she  repeated  poetry  to 
keep  her  mind  off  the  loneliness  and  the  pity  of  that 
poor  baby  alone  like  herself.  She  would  not  think  of 
him  if  she  could  help  it. 

When  she  began  to  shiver  so  that  her  teeth  chattered, 
she  would  walk  up  and  down  before  the  bank  until  she 
felt  warm  again;  then  she  would  sit  with  her  back 
against  the  clay  and  close  her  eyes  and  try  to  sleep.  It 
was  not  a  pleasant  way  in  which  to  pass  a  whole  night, 
but  Miss  Allen  endured  it  as  best  she  could.  When 


THE    LONG   WAY   ROUND     253 

the  sun  tinged  the  hill-tops  she  got  up  stiffly  and  dragged 
herself  out  of  the  canyon  where  she  could  get  the  direc- 
tion straight  in  her  mind,  and  then  set  off  resolutely  to 
find  the  Kid.  She  no  longer  had  much  thought  of  find- 
ing her  horse,  though  she  missed  him  terribly,  and 
wished  she  had  the  lunch  that  was  tied  to  the  saddle. 

This,  remember,  was  the  fourth  day  since  the  Kid 
rode  down  through  the  little  pasture  and  stood  on  a 
piece  of  fence-post  so  that  he  could  fasten  the  gate. 
Men  had  given  up  hope  of  finding  him  alive  and  un- 
harmed. They  searched  now  for  his  body.  And  then 
the  three  women  who  lived  with  Miss  Allen  began  to 
inquire  about  the  girl,  and  so  the  warning  went  out  that 
Miss  Allen  was  lost;  and  they  began  looking  for  her 
also. 

Miss  Allen,  along  towards  noon  of  that  fourth  day, 
found  a  small  stream  of  water  that  was  fit  to  drink.  Be- 
side the  stream  she  found  the  footprints  of  a  child,  and 
they  looked  quite  fresh  —  as  if  they  had  been  made  that 
day.  She  whipped  up  her  flagging  energy  and  went  on 
hopefully. 

It  was  a  long  while  afterwards  that  she  met  him  com- 
ing down  a  canyon  on  his  horse.  It  must  have  been  past 
three  o'clock,  and  Miss  Allen  could  scarcely  drag  herself 
along.  When  she  saw  him  she  turned  faint,  and  sat 
down  heavily  on  the  steep-sloping  bank. 


254     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

The  Kid  rode  up  and  stopped  beside  her.  His  face 
was  terribly  dirty  and  streaked  with  the  marks  of  tears 
he  would  never  acknowledge  afterwards.  He  seemed 
to  be  all  right,  though,  and  because  of  his  ignorance 
of  the  danger  he  had  been  in  he  did  not  seem  to  have  suf- 
fered half  as  much  as  had  Miss  Allen. 

"  Howdy  do,"  he  greeted  her,  and  smiled  his  adora- 
ble little  smile  that  was  like  the  Little  Doctor's.  "  Are 
you  the  lady  up  on  the  hill  ?  Do  you  know  where  the 
bunch  is  ?  I'm  —  lookin'  for  the  bunch." 

Miss  Allen  found  strength  enough  to  stand  up  and 
put  her  arms  around  him  as  he  sat  very  straight  in  his 
little  stock  saddle ;  she  hugged  him  tight. 

"  You  poor  baby ! "  she  cried,  and  her  eyes  were 
blurred  with  tears.  "  You  poor  little  lost  baby !  " 

"  I  ain't  a  baby !  "  The  Kid  pulled  himself  free. 
"  I'm  six  years  old  goin'  on  thirty.  I'm  a  rell  ole  cow- 
puncher.  I  can  slap  a  saddle  on  my  string  and  ride 
like  a  son-a-gun.  And  I  can  put  the  bridle  on  him  my 
own  self  and  everything.  I  —  I  was  lookin'  for  the 
bunch.  I  had  to  make  a  dry-camp  and  my  doughtnuts 
is  all  smashed  up  and  the  jelly  glass  broke  but  I  never 
cried  when  a  skink  came.  I  shooed'  him  away  and  I 
never  cried  once.  I'm  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher,  ain't  I? 
I  ain't  afraid  of  skinks.  I  frowed  a  rock  at  him  and  I 
said,  (  git  outa  here,  you  damn  old  skink  or  I'll  knock 


THE    LONG    WAY    ROUND     255 

your  block  off ! '     You  oughter  seen  him  go !     I  —  I 
sure  made  him  hard  to  ketch,  by  cripes !  " 

Miss  Allen  stepped  back  and  the  twinkle  came  into 
her  eyes  and  the  whimsical  twist  to  her  lips.  She  knew 
children.  Not  for  the  world  would  she  offend  this  man- 
child. 

"  Well,  I  should  say  you  are  a  real  old  cowpuncher !  " 
she  exclaimed  admiringly.  "  Now  I'm  afraid  of  skinks. 
I  never  would  dare  knock  his  block  off !  And  last  night 
when  I  was  lost  and  hungry  and  it  got  dark,  I  — 
cried!" 

"  Hunh !  "  The  Kid  studied  her  with  a  condescend- 
ing pity.  "  Oh,  well  —  you're  dust  a  woman.  Us 
fellers  have  to  take  care  of  women.  Daddy  Chip  takes 
care  of  Doctor  Dell  —  I  guess  she'd  cry  if  she  couldn't 
find  the  bunch  and  had  to  make  dry-camp  and  skinks 
come  around  —  but  I  never." 

"  Of  course  you  never !  "  Miss  Allen  agreed  emphatic- 
ally, trying  not  to  look  conscious  of  any  tear-marks  on 
the  Kid's  sunburned  cheeks.  "  Women  are  regular  cry 
babies,  aren't  they  ?  I  suppose,"  she  added  guilefully, 
"  I'd  cry  again  if  you  rode  off  to  find  the  bunch  and 
left  me  down  here  all  alone.  I've  lost  my  horse,  and 
I've  lost  my  lunch,  and  I've  lost  myself,  and  I'm  awfully 
afraid  of  skunks  —  skinks." 

"  Oh,  I'll  take  care  of  you,"  the  Kid  comforted.    "  I'll 


256     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

give  you  a  doughnut  if  you're  hungry.     I've  got  some 

left,  but  you'll  have  to  pick  out  the  glass  where  the 

jelly  broke  on  it."     He  reined  closer  to  the  bank  and 

jslid  off  and  began  untying  the  sadly  depleted  bag  from 

.behind  the  cantle.     Miss  Allen  offered  to  do  it  for  him, 

*and  was  beautifully  snubbed.     The  Kid  may  have  been 

;just  a  frightened,  lost  little  boy  before  he  met  her  —  but 

that  was  a  secret  hidden  in  the  silences  of  the  deep 

•canyons.     Now  he  was  a  real  old  cowpuncher,  and  he 

was  going  to  take  care  of  Miss  Allen  because  men  always 

had  to  take  care  of  women. 

Miss  Allen  offended  him  deeply  when  she  called  him 
Claude.  She  was  told  bluntly  that  he  was  Buck,  and 
that  he  belonged  to  the  Flying  U  outfit,  and  was  riding 
down  here  to  help  the  bunch  gather  some  cattle.  "  But 
I  can't  find  the  brakes,"  he  admitted  grudgingly. 
"  That's  where  the  bunch  is  —  down  in  the  brakes ;  I 
can't  seem  to  locate  them  brakes." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  go  home  to  your 
mother  ?  "  Miss  Allen  asked  him  while  he  was  struggling 
with  the  knot  he  had  tied  in  the  bag. 

"  I've  got  to  find  the  bunch.  The  bunch  needs  me," 
said  the  Kid.  "I  —  I  guess  Doctor  Dell  is  s'prised  — 

"  Who's  Doctor  Dell  ?  Your  mother  ?  Your  mother 
has  just  about  cried  herself  sick,  she's  so  lonesome  with- 
out you." 


THE    LONG   WAY   ROUND     257 

The  Kid  looked  at  her  wide-eyed.  "  Aw,  gwan !  " 
he  retorted  after  a  minute,  imitating  Happy  Jack's  dis- 
belief of  any  unpleasant  news.  "  I  guess  you're  jest 
loadin'  me.  Daddy  Chip  is  takin'  care  of  her.  He 
wouldn't  let  her  be  lonesome." 

The  Kid  got  the  sack  open  and  reached  an  arm  in  to 
the  shoulder.  He  groped  there  for  a  minute  and  drew 
out  a  battered  doughnut  smeared  liberally  with  wild 
currant  jelly,  and  gave  it  to  Miss  Allen  with  an  air  of 
princely  generosity  and  all  the  chivalry  of  all  the  Happy 
Family  rolled  into  one  baby  gesture.  Miss  Allen  took 
the  doughnut  meekly  and  did  not  spoil  the  Kid's  pleas- 
ure by  hugging  him  as  she  would  have  liked  to  do.  In- 
stead she  said:  "  Thank  you,  Buck  of  the  Flying  U," 
quite  humbly.  Then  something  choked  Miss  Allen  and 
she  turned  her  back  upon  him  abruptly. 

"  I've  got  one,  two,  free,  fourteen  left,"  said  the  Kid, 
counting  them  gravely.  "  If  I  had  'membered  to  bring 
matches,"  he  added  regretfully,  "  I  could  have  a  fire 
and  toast  rabbit  legs.  I  guess  you  got  some  glass, 
didn't  you  ?  I  got  some  and  it  cutted  my  tongue  so 
the  bleed  came  —  but  I  never  cried,"  he  made  haste  to 
deny  stoutly.  "  I'm  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher  now.  I  dust 
cussed."  He  looked  at  her  gravely.  "  You  can't  cuss 
where  women  can  hear,"  he  told  Miss  Allen  reassuringly, 
"Bud  says—" 


258     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  Let  me  see  the  doughnuts/7  said  Miss  Allen  ab- 
ruptly. "  I  think  you  ought  to  let  me  keep  the  lunch. 
That's  the  woman's  part.  Men  can't  bother  with 
lunch  — " 

"  It  ain't  lunch,  it's  grub,"  corrected  the  Kid.  But 
he  let  her  have  the  bag,  and  Miss  Allen  looked  inside. 
There  were  some  dried  prunes  that  looked  like  lumps  of 
dirty  dough,  and  six  dilapidated  doughnuts  in  a  mess 
of  jelly,  and  a  small  glass  jar  of  honey. 

"  I  couldn't  get  the  cover  off,"  the  Kid  explained, 
"  'thout  I  busted  it,  and  then  it  would  all  spill  like  the 
jelly.  Gee!  I  wish  I  had  a  beefsteak  under  my  belt !  " 

Miss  Allen  leaned  over  with  her  elbows  on  the  bank 
and  laughed  and  laughed.  Miss  Allen  was  closer  to 
hysterics  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  The  Kid 
looked  at  her  in  astonishment  and  turned  to  Silver, 
standing  with  drooping  head  beside  the  bank.  Miss 
Allen  pulled  herself  together  and  asked  him  what  he 
was  going  to  do. 

"  I'm  going  to  locate  your  horse,"  he  said,  "  and  then 
I'm  going  to  take  you  home."  He  looked  at  her  dis- 
approvingly. "  I  don't  like  you  so  very  much,"  he 
added.  "  It  ain't  p'lite  to  laugh  at  a  feller  all  the 
time." 

"  I  won't  laugh  any  more.  I  think  we  had  better  go- 
home  right  away,"  said  Miss  Allen  contritely.  "  You 


THE    LONG   WAY   ROUND     259 

see,  Buck,  the  bunch  came  home.  They  —  they  aren't 
hunting  cattle  now.  They  want  to  find  you  and  tell  you. 
And  your  father  and  mother  need  you  awfully  bad, 
Buck.  They've  been  looking  all  over  for  you,  every- 
where, and  wishing  you'd  come  home." 

Buck  looked  wistfully  up  and  down  the  canyon.  His 
face  at  that  moment  was  not  the  face  of  a  real  old 
cowpuncher,  but  the  sweet,  dirty,  mother-hungry  face 
of  a  child.  "  It's  a  far  ways,"  he  said  plaintively. 
"It's  a  million  miles,  I  guess.  I  wanted  to  go  home, 
but  I  couln't  des'  'zactly  'member  —  and  I  thought  I 
could  find  the  bunch,  and  they'd  know  the  trail  better. 
Do  you  know  the  trail  ?  " 

Miss  Allen  evaded  that  question  and  the  Kid's  wide, 
wistful  eyes.  "  I  think  if  we  start  out,  Buck,  we  can 
find  it.  We  must  go  toward  the  sun,  now.  That  will 
be  towards  home.  Shall  I  put  you  on  your  horse  ?  " 

The  Kid  gave  her  a  withering  glance  and  squirmed  up 
into  the  saddle  with  the  help  of  both  horn  and  cantle 
and  by  the  grace  of  good  luck.  Miss  Allen  gasped 
while  she  watched  him. 

The  Kid  looked  down  at  her  triumphantly.  lie 
frowned  a  little  and  flushed  guiltily  when  he  remem- 
bered something.  "  'Scuse  me,"  he  said.  "  I  guess 
you  better  ride  my  horse.  I  guess  I  better  walk.  It 
ain't  p'lite  for  ladies  to  walk  and  men  ride." 


260     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  JSTo,  no !  "  Miss  Allen  reached  up  with  both  hands 
and  held  the  Kid  from  dismounting.  "  I'll  walk,  Buck. 
I'd  rather.  I  —  why,  I  wouldn't  dare  ride  that  horse 
of  yours.  I'd  be  afraid  he  might  buck  me  off."  She 
pinched  her  eyebrows  together  and  pursed  up  her  lips 
in  a  most  convincing  manner. 

"  Hunh !  "  Scorn  of  her  cowardice  was  in  his  tone. 
"  Well,  a  course  I  ain't  scared  to  ride  him." 

So  with  Miss  Allen  walking  close  to  the  Kid's  stirrup 
and  trying  her  best  to  keep  up  and  to  be  cheerful  and 
to  remember  that  she  must  not  treat  him  like  a  little, 
lost  boy  but  like  a  real  old  cowpuncher,  they  started  up 
the  canyon  toward  the  sun  which  hung  low  above  a  dark, 
pine-covered  hill. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HER    NAME    WAS    ROSEMARY 

ANDY  GBEEN  came  in  from  a  twenty-hour  ride 
through  the  Wolf  Butte  country  and  learned  that 
another  disaster  had  followed  on  the  heels  of  the  first; 
that  Miss  Allen  had  been  missing  for  thirty-six  hours. 
While  he  holted  what  food  was  handiest  in  the  camp 
where  old  Patsy  cooked  for  the  searchers,  and  the  horse 
wrangler  brought  up  the  saddle-bunch  just  as  though  it 
was  a  roundup  that  held  here  its  headquarters,  he  heard 
all  that  Slim  and  Cal  Emmett  could  tell  him  about  the 
disappearance  of  Miss  Allen. 

One  fact  stood  significantly  in  the  foreground,  and 
that  was  that  Pink  and  the  Native  Son  had  been  the 
last  to  speak  with  her,  so  far  as  anyone  knew.  That 
was  it  —  so  far  as  anyone  knew.  Andy's  lips  tight- 
ened. There  were  many  strangers  riding  through  the 
country,  and  where  there  are  many  strangers  there  is  also 
a  certain  element  of  danger.  That  Miss  Allen  was  lost 
was  not  the  greatest  fear  that  drove  Andy  Green  forth 
without  sleep  and  with  food  enough  to  last  him  a  day  or 
two. 


262     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

First  lie  meant  to  hunt  up  Pink  and  Miguel  —  which 
was  easy  enough,  since  they  rode  into  camp  exhausted 
and  disheartened  while  he  was  saddling  a  fresh  horse. 
From  them  he  learned  the  direction  which  Miss  Allen 
had  taken  when  she  left  them,  and  he  rode  that  way  and 
never  stopped  until  he  had  gone  down  off  the  benchland 
and  had  left  the  fringe  of  coulees  and  canyons  behind. 
Pink  and  the  Native  Son  had  just  come  from  down  in 
here,  and  they  had  seen  no  sign  of  either  her  or  the  Kid. 
Andy  intended  to  begin  where  they  had  left  off,  and 
comb  the  breaks  as  carefully  as  it  is  possible  for  one  man 
to  do.  He  was  beginning  to  think  that  the  Badlands 
held  the  secret  of  the  Kid's  disappearance,  even  though 
they  had  seen  nothing  of  him  when  they  came  out  four 
days  ago.  Had  he  seen  Chip  he  would  have  urged  him 
to  send  all  the  searchers  —  and  there  were  two  or  three 
hundred  by  now  —  into  the  Badlands  and  keep  them 
there  until  the  Kid  was  found.  But  he  did  not  see 
Chip  and  had  no  time  to  hunt  him  up.  And  having 
managed  to  evade  the  supervision  of  any  captain,  and 
to  keep  clear  of  all  parties,  he  meant  to  go  alone  and 
see  if  he  could  find  a  clue,  at  least. 

It  was  down  in  the  long  canyon  which  Miss  Allen 
had  followed,  that  Andy  found  hoof-prints  which  he 
recognized.  The  horse  Miss  Allen  had  ridden  when- 
ever he  saw  her  —  one  which  she  had  bought  somewhere 


HER  NAME  WAS  ROSEMARY     263 

north  of  town  —  had  one  front  foot  which  turned  in 
toward  the  other.  "  Pigeon-toed,"  he  would  have  called 
it.  The  track  it  left  in  soft  soil  was  unmistakable. 
Andy's  face  brightened  when  he  saw  it  and  knew  that 
he  was  on  her  trail.  The  rest  of  the  way  down  the 
canyon  he  rode  alertly,  for  though  he  knew  she  might  be 
miles  from  there  by  now,  to  find  the  route  she  had 
taken  into  the  Badlands  was  something  gained. 

The  flat,  which  Andy  knew  very  well  —  having 
driven  the  bunch  of  cattle  whose  footprints  had  so 
elated  Miss  Allen  —  he  crossed  uneasily.  There  were 
so  many  outlets  to  this  rich  little  valley.  He  tried 
several  of  them,  which  took  time;  and  always  when  he 
came  to  soft  earth  and  saw  no  track  of  the  hoof  that 
turned  in  toward  the  other,  he  would  go  back  and  ride 
into  another  gulch.  And  when  you  are  told  that  these 
were  many,  and  that  much  of  the  ground  was  rocky, 
and  some  was  covered  with  a  thick  mat  of  grass,  you  will 
not  be  surprised  that  when  Andy  finally  took  up  her 
trail  in  the  canyon  farthest  to  the  right,  it  was  well 
towards  noon.  He  followed  her  easily  enough  until  he 
came  to  the  next  valley,  which  he  examined  over  and 
over  before  he  found  where  she  had  left  it  to  push 
deeper  into  the  Badlands.  And  it  was  the  same  experi- 
ence repeated  when  he  came  out  of  that  gulch  into  an- 
other open  space. 


264     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

He  came  into  a  network  of  gorges  that  would  puzzle 
almost  anyone,  and  stopped  to  water  his  horse  and  let 
him  feed  for  an  hour  or  so.  A  man's  horse  meant  a 
good  deal  to  him,  down  here  on  such  a  mission,  and  even 
his  anxiety  could  not  betray  him  into  letting  his  mount 
become  too  fagged. 

After  a  while  he  mounted  and  rode  on  without  hav- 
ing any  clue  to  follow;  one  must  trust  to  chance,  to  a 
certain  extent,  in  a  place  like  this.  He  had  not  seen 
any  sign  of  the  Kid,  either,  and  the  gorges  were  filling 
with  shadows  that  told  how  low  the  sun  was  sliding 
down  the  sky.  At  that  time  he  was  not  more  than  a 
mile  or  so  from  the  canyon  up  which  Miss  Allen  was 
toiling  afoot  toward  the  sun;  but  Andy  had  no  means 
of  knowing  that.  He  went  on  with  drooping  head 
and  eyes  that  stared  achingly  here  and  there.  That 
was  the  worst  of  his  discomfort  —  his  eyes.  Lack  of 
sleep  and  the  strain  of  looking,  looking,  against  wind 
and  sun,  had  made  them  red-rimmed  and  bloodshot. 
Miss  Allen's  eyes  were  like  that,  and  so  were  the  eyes 
of  all  the  searchers. 

In  spite  of  himself  Andy's  eyes  closed  now.  He  had 
not  slept  for  two  nights,  and  he  had  been  riding  all  that 
time.  Before  he  realized  it  he  was  asleep  in  the  saddle, 
and  his  horse  was  carrying  him  into  a  gulch  that  had  no 
outlet  —  there  were  so  many  such !  —  but  came  up 


HER  NAME  WAS  ROSEMARY     265 

against  a  hill  and  stopped  there.  The  shadows  deep- 
ened, and  the  sky  above  was  red  and  gold. 

Andy  woke  with  a  jerk,  his  horse  having  stopped  be- 
cause he  could  go  no  farther.  But  it  was  not  that 
which  woke  him.  He  listened.  He  would  have  sworn 
that  he  had  heard  the  shrill,  anxious  whinny  of  a  horse 
not  far  away.  He  turned  and  examined  the  gulch,  but 
it  was  narrow  and  grassy  and  had  no  possible  place  of 
concealment,  and  save  himself  and  his  own  horse  it  was 
empty.  And  it  was  not  his  own  horse  that  whinnied 
—  he  was  sure  of  that.  Also,  he  was  sure  that  he  had 
not  dreamed  it.  A  horse  had  called  insistently.  Andy 
knew  horses  too  well  not  to  know  that  there  was  anxiety 
and  rebellion  in  that  call. 

He  waited  a  minute,  his  heart  beating  heavily.  He 
turned  and  started  back  down  the  gulch,  and  then 
stopped  suddenly.  He  heard  it  again  —  shrill,  pro- 
longed, a  call  from  somewhere;  where,  he  could  not  de- 
termine because  of  the  piled  masses  of  earth  and  rock 
that  flung  the  sound  riotously  here  and  there  and  con- 
fused him  as  to  direction. 

Then  his  own  horse  turned  his  head  and  looked  to- 
ward the  left,  and  answered  the  call.  From  far  off  the 
strange  horse  made  shrill  reply.  Andy  got  down  and 
began  climbing  the  left-hand  ridge  on  the  run,  tired 
as  he  was.  Not  many  horses  ranged  down  in  here  — 


266     FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

and  he  did  not  believe,  anyway,  that  this  was  any  range 
horse.  It  did  not  sound  like  Silver,  but  it  might  be 
the  pigeon-toed  horse  of  Miss  Allen.  And  if  it  was, 
then  Miss  Allen  would  be  there.  He  took  a  deep  breath 
and  went  up  the  last  steep  pitch  in  a  spurt  of  speed  that 
surprised  himself. 

At  the  top  he  stood  panting  and  searched  the  canyon 
below  him.  Just  across  the  canyon  was  the  high  peak 
which  Miss  Allen  had  climbed  afoot.  But  down  be- 
low him  he  saw  her  horse  circling  about  in  a  trampled 
place  under  a  young  cottonwood. 

You  would  never  accuse  Andy  Green  of  being  weak, 
or  of  having  unsteady  nerves,  I  hope.  But  it  is  the 
truth  that  he  felt  his  knees  give  way  while  he  looked ; 
and  it  was  a  minute  or  two  before  he  had  any  voice 
with  which  to  call  to  her.  Then  he  shouted,  and  the 
great  hill  opposite  flung  back  the  echoes  maddeningly. 

He  started  running  down  the  ridge,  and  brought  up 
in  the  canyon's  bottom  near  the  horse.  It  was  growing 
shadowy  now  to  the  top  of  the  lower  ridges,  although 
the  sun  shone  faintly  on  the  crest  of  the  peak.  The 
horse  whinnied  and  circled  restively  when  Andy  came 
near.  Andy  needed  no  more  than  a  glance  to  tell  him 
that  the  horse  had  stood  tied  there  for  twenty-four  hours, 
at  the  very  least.  That  meant  .  .  . 

Andy   turned   pale.     He  shouted,   and  the  canyon 


HER  NAME  WAS  ROSEMARY     267 

mocked  him  with  echoes.  He  looked  for  her  tracks. 
At  the  base  of  the  peak  he  saw  the  print  of  her  riding 
boots ;  farther  along,  up  the  slope  he  saw  the  track  again. 
Miss  Allen,  then,  must  have  climbed  the  peak,  and  he 
knew  why  she  had  done  so.  But  why  had  she  not  come 
down  again? 

There  was  only  one  way  to  find  out,  and  he  took  the 
method  in  the  face  of  his  weariness.  He  climbed  the 
peak  also,  with  now  and  then  a  footprint  to  guide  him. 
He  was  not  one  of  those  geniuses  at  trailing  who  could 
tell,  by  a  mere  footprint,  what  had  been  in  Miss  Allen's 
mind  when  she  had  passed  that  way ;  but  for  all  that  it 
seemed  logical  that  she  had  gone  up  there  to  see  if  she 
could  not  glimpse  the  Kid  —  or  possibly  the  way  home. 

At  the  top  he  did  not  loiter.  He  saw,  before  he 
reached  the  height,  where  Miss  Allen  had  come  down 
again  —  and  he  saw  where  she  had,  to  avoid  a  clump 
of  boulders  and  a  broken  ledge,  gone  too  far  to  one  side. 
He  followed  that  way.  She  had  descended  at  an  angle, 
after  that,  which  took  her  away  from  the  canyon. 

In  Montana  there  is  more  of  daylight  after  the  sun 
has  gone  than  there  is  in  some  other  places.  Andy,  by 
hurrying,  managed  to  trail  Miss  Allen  to  the  bottom  of 
the  peak  before  it  grew  really  dusky.  He  knew  that 
she  had  been  completely  lost  when  she  reached  the  bot- 
tom, and  had  probably  wandered  about  at  random  since 


268     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

then.  At  any  rate,  there  were  no  tracks  anywhere  save 
her  own,  so  that  he  felt  less  anxiety  over  her  safety  than 
when  he  had  started  out  looking  for  her. 

Andy  knew  those  breaks  pretty  well.  He  went  over  a 
rocky  ridge  which  Miss  Allen  had  not  tried  to  cross  be- 
cause to  her  it  seemed  exactly  in  the  opposite  direction 
from  where  she  had  started,  and  so  he  came  to  her  horse 
again.  He  untied  the  poor  beast  and  searched  for  a 
possible  trail  over  the  ridge  to  where  his  own  horse 
waited ;  and  by  the  time  he  had  found  one  and  had  forced 
the  horse  to  climb  to  the  top  and  then  descend  into  the 
gulch,  the  darkness  lay  heavy  upon  the  hills. 

He  picketed  Miss  Allen's  horse  with  his  rope  and 
fashioned  a  hobble  for  his  own  mount.  Then  he  ate  a 
little  of  the  food  he  carried  and  sat  down  to  rest  and 
smoke  and  consider  how  best  he  could  find  Miss  Allen 
or  the  Kid  —  or  both.  He  believed  Miss  Allen  to  be 
somewhere  not  far  away  —  since  she  was  afoot,  and  had 
left  her  lunch  tied  to  the  saddle.  She  could  not  travel 
far  without  food. 

After  a  little  he  climbed  back  up  the  ridge  to  where 
he  had  noticed  a  patch  of  brush,  and  there  he  started  a 
fire.  Not  a  very  large  one,  but  large  enough  to  be  seen 
for  a  long  distance  where  the  vision  was  not  blocked  by 
intervening  hills.  Then  he  sat  down  beside  it  and 
waited  and  listened  and  tended  the  fire.  It  was  all  that 


HER  NAME  WAS  ROSEMARY     269 

he  could  do  for  the  present,  and  it  seemed  pitifully 
little.  If  she  saw  the  fire,  he  believed  that  she  would 
come;  if  she  did  not  see  it,  there  was  no  hope  of  his 
finding  her  in  the  dark.  Had  there  been  fuel  on  the 
high  peak,  he  might  have  gone  up  there  to  start  his  fire ; 
but  that  was  out  of  the  question,  since  the  peak  was 
barren. 

Heavy-eyed,  tired  in  every  fibre  of  his  being,  Andy 
dragged  up  a  dead  buck-bush  and  laid  the  butt  of  it 
across  his  blaze.  Then  he  lay  down  near  it  —  and  went 
to  sleep  as  quickly  as  if  he  had  been  chloroformed. 

It  may  have  been  an  hour  after  that  —  it  may  have 
been  more.  He  sat  up  suddenly  and  listened.  Through 
the  stupor  of  his  sleep  he  had  heard  Miss  Allen  call. 
At  least,  he  believed  he  had  heard  her  call,  though  he- 
knew  he  might  easily  have  dreamed  it.  He  knew  he  had 
been  asleep,  because  the  fire  had  eaten  part  of  the  way 
to  the  branches  of  the  bush  and  had  died  down  to  smok- 
ing embers.  He  kicked  the  branch  upon  the  coals  and 
a  blaze  shot  up  into  the  night.  He  stood  up  and  walked 
a  little  distance  away  from  the  fire  so  that  he  could  see 
better,  and  stood  staring  down  into  the  canyon. 

From  below  he  heard  a  faint  call  —  he  was  sure  of 
it.  The  wonder  to  him  was  that  he  had  heard  it  at  all 
in  his  sleep.  His  anxiety  must  have  been  strong  enough 
even  then  to  send  the  signal  to  his  brain  and  rouse  him. 


270     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

He  shouted,  and  again  he  heard  a  faint  call.  It  seemed 
to  be  far  down  the  canyon.  He  started  running  that 
way. 

The  next  time  he  shouted,  she  answered  him  more 
clearly.  And  farther  along  he  distinctly  heard  and 
recognized  her  voice.  You  may  be  sure  he  ran,  after 
that! 

After  all,  it  was  not  so  very  far,  to  a  man  who  is  run- 
ning recklessly  down  hill.  Before  he  realized  how  close 
he  was  he  saw  her  standing  before  him  in  the  starlight. 
Andy  did  not  stop.  He  kept  right  on  running  until  he 
could  catch  her  in  his  arms ;  and  when  he  had  her  there 
he  held  her  close  and  then  he  kissed  her.  That  was  not 
proper,  of  course  —  but  a  man  does  sometimes  do  terri- 
bly improper  things  under  the  stress  of  big  emotions; 
Andy  had  been  haunted  by  the  fear  that  she  was  dead. 

Well,  Miss  Allen  was  just  as  improper  as  he  was,  for 
that  matter.  She  did  say  "  Oh !  "  in  a  breathless  kind 
of  way,  and  then  she  must  have  known  who  he  was. 
There  surely  could  be  no  other  excuse  for  the  way  she 
clung  to  him  and  without  the  faintest  resistance  let  him 
kiss  her. 

"  Oh,  IVe  found  him !  "  she  whispered  after  the  first 
terribly  unconventional  greetings  were  over.  "  I've 
found  him,  Mr.  Green.  I  couldn't  come  up  to  the  fire, 
because  he's  asleep  and  I  couldn't  carry  him,  and  I 


HER  NAME  WAS  ROSEMARY     271 

wouldn't  wake  him  unless  I  had  to.  He's  just  down 
here  —  I  was  afraid  to  go  very  far,  for  fear  of  losing 
him  again.  Oh,  Mr.  Green !  I  — " 

"  My  name  is  Andy,"  he  told  her.  "  What's  your 
name  ? " 

"  Mine  ?  It's  —  well,  it's  Eosemary.  Never  mind 
now.  I  should  think  you'd  be  just  wild  to  see  that  poor 
little  fellow  —  he's  a  brick,  though." 

"  I've  been  wild,"  said  Andy,  "  over  a  good  many 
things  —  you,  for  one.  Where's  the  Kid  ?  " 

They  went  together,  hand  in  hand  —  terribly  silly, 
wasn't  it  ?  —  to  where  the  Kid  lay  wrapped  in  the 
gray  blanket  in  the  shelter  of  a  bank.  Andy  struck  a 
match  and  held  it  so  that  he  could  see  the  Kid's  face 
—  and  Miss  Allen,  looking  at  the  man  whose  wooing 
had  been  so  abrupt,  saw  his  mouth  tremble  and  his 
lashes  glisten  as  he  stared  down  while  the  match-blaze 
lasted. 

"  Poor  little  tad  —  he's  sure  a  great  Kid,"  he  said 
huskily  when  the  match  went  out.  He  stood  up  and  put 
his  arm  around  Miss  Allen  just  as  though  that  was  his 
habit.  "  And  it  was  you  that  found  him !  "  he  mur- 
mured with  his  face  against  hers.  "And  I've  found 
you  both,  thank  God." 


CHAPTEK  XX 

THE    BELL    OLE    COWPTOCHER    GOES    HOME 

I  DON'T  suppose  anything  can  equal  the  aplomb  of 
a  child  that  has  always  had  his  own  way  and  has 
developed  normally.  The  Kid,  for  instance,  had  been 
wandering  in  the  wild  places  —  this  was  the  morning 
of  the  sixth  day.  The  whole  of  Northern  Montana 
waited  anxiously  for  news  of  him.  The  ranch  had  been 
turned  into  a  rendezvous  for  searchers.  Men  rode  as 
long  as  they  could  sit  in  the  saddle.  Women  were 
hysterical  in  the  affection  they  lavished  upon  their  own 
young.  And  yet,  the  Kid  himself  opened  his  eyes  to 
the  sun  and  his  mind  was  untroubled  save  where  his 
immediate  needs  were  concerned.  He  sat  up  thinking 
of  breakfast,  and  he  spied  Andy  Green  humped  on  his 
knees  over  a  heap  of  camp-fire  coals,  toasting  rabbit- 
hams  —  the  joy  of  it !  —  on  a  forked  stick.  Opposite 
him  Miss  Allen  crouched  and  held  another  rabbit-leg 
on  a  forked  stick.  The  Kid  sat  up  as  if  a  spring  had 
been  suddenly  released,  and  threw  off  the  gray  blan- 
ket. 


COWPUNCHER    GOES    HOME     273 

"  Say,  I  want  to  do  that  too !  "  he  cried.  "  Get  me 
a  stick,  Andy,  so  I  can  do  it.  I  never  did  and  I  want 
to!" 

Andy  grabbed  him  as  he  came  up  and  kissed  him  — 
and  the  Kid  wondered  at  the  tremble  of  Andy's  arms. 
He  wondered  also  at  the  unusual  caress ;  but  it  was  very 
nice  to  have  Andy's  arms  around  him  and  Andy's 
cheek  against  his,  and  of  a  sudden  the  baby  of  him 
came  to  the  surface. 

"  I  want  my  Daddy  Chip !  "  he  whimpered,  and  laid 
his  head  down  on  Andy's  shoulder.  "  And  I  want  my 
Doctor  Dell  and  my  —  cat !  She's  lonesome  for  me. 
And  I  forgot  to  take  the  string  off  her  tail  and  maybe 
it  ain't  comf 'table  any  more !  " 

"  We're  going  to  hit  the  trail,  old-timer,  just  as  soon 
as  we  get  outside  of  a  little  grub."  Andy's  voice  was 
so  tender  that  Miss  Allen  gulped  back  a  sob  of  sympa- 
thy. "  You  take  this  stick  and  finish  roasting  the  meat, 
and  then  see  what  you  think  of  rabbit-hams.  I  hear 
you've  been  a  real  old  cowpuncher,  Buck.  The  way 
you  took  care  of  Miss  Allen  proves  you're  the  goods, 
all  right.  Not  quite  so  close,  or  you'll  burn  it,  Buck. 
That's  better.  I'll  go  get  another  stick  and  roast  the 
back." 

The  Kid,  squatting  on  his  heels  by  the  fire,  watched 
gravely  the  rabbit-leg  on  the  two  prongs  of  the  willow 


274     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

stick  lie  held.     He  glanced  across  at  Miss  Allen  and 
smiled  his  Xittle  Doctor  smile. 

"  He's  my  pal,"  he  announced.  "I  bet  if  I  stayed 
we  could  round  up  all  them  cattle  our  own  selves.  And 
I  bet  he  can  find  your  horse,  too.  He  —  he's  'customed 
to  this  country.  I'd  a  found  your  horse  today,  all 
right  —  but  I  guess  Andy  could  find  him  quicker.  Us 
punchers'll  take  care  of  you,  all  right."  The  rabbit- 
leg  sagged  to  the  coals  and  began  to  scorch,  and  the  Kid 
lifted  it  startled  and  was  grateful  when  Miss  Allen  did 
not  seem  to  have  seen  the  accident. 

"  I'd  a  killed  a  rabbit  for  you,"  he  explained,  "  only 
I  didn't  have  no  gun  or  no  matches  so  I  couldn't.  When 
I'm  ten  my  Daddy  Chip  is  going  to  give  me  a  gun. 
And  then  if  you  get  lost  I  can  take  care  of  you  like 
Andy  can.  I'll  be  ten  next  week,  I  guess."  He  turned 
as  Andy  came  back  slicing  off  the  branches  of  a  willow 
the  size  of  his  thumb. 

"  Say,  old-timer,  where's  the  rest  of  the  bunch  ? " 
he  inquired  casually.  "  Did  you  git  your  cattle  rounded 
up?" 

"  Not  yet."  Andy  sharpened  the  prongs  of  his  stick 
and  carefully  impaled  the  back  of  the  rabbit. 

"Well,  I'll  help  you  out.  But  I  guess  I  better  go 
home  first  —  I  guess  Doctor  Dell  might  need  me, 
maybe." 


COWPUNCHER    GOES    HOME     275 

"  I  know  she  does,  Buck."  Andy's  voice  had  a  pe- 
culiar, shaky  sound  that  the  Kid  did  not  understand. 
"  She  needs  you  right  bad.  We'll  hit  the  high  places 
right  away  quick." 

Since  Andy  had  gone  at  daybreak  and  brought  the 
horses  over  into  this  canyon,  his  statement  was  a  literal 
one.  They  ate  hurriedly  and  started  —  and  Miss 
Allen  insisted  that  Andy  was  all  turned  around,  and 
that  they  were  going  in  exactly  the  wrong  direction, 
and  blushed  and  was  silent  when  Andy,  turning  his 
face  full  toward  her,  made  a  kissing  motion  with  his 
lips. 

"  You  quit  that ! "  the  Kid  commanded  him 
sharply.  "  She's  my  girl.  I  guess  I  found  her  first 
'fore  you  did,  and  you  ain't  goin'  to  kiss  her." 

After  that  there  was  no  lovemaking  but  the  most 
decorous  conversation  between  those  two. 

Flying  U  Coulee  lay  deserted  under  the  warm  sun- 
light of  early  forenoon.  Deserted,  and  silent  with  the 
silence  that  tells  where  Death  has  stopped  with  his 
sickle.  Even  the  Kid  seemed  to  feel  a  strangeness  in 
the  atmosphere  —  a  stillness  that  made  his  face  sober 
while  he  looked  around  the  little  pasture  and  up  at  the 
hill  trail.  In  all  the  way  home  they  had  not  met  any- 
one —  but  that  may  have  been  because  Andy  chose  the 


276    FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

way  up  Flying  II  Creek  as  being  shorter  and  therefore 
more  desirable. 

At  the  lower  line  fence  of  the  little  pasture  Andy 
refused  to  believe  the  Kid's  assertion  of  having  opened 
and  shut  the  gate,  until  the  Kid  got  down  and  proved 
that  he  could  open  it  —  the  shutting  process  being  too 
slow  for  Andy's  raw  nerves.  He  lifted  the  Kid  into 
the  saddle  and  shut  the  gate  himself,  and  led  the  way 
up  the  creek  at  a  fast  trot. 

"  I  guess  Doctor  Dell  will  be  glad  to  see  me,"  the 
Kid  observed  wistfully.  "  I've  been  gone  most  a  year, 
I  guess." 

Neither  Andy  nor  Miss  Allen  made  any  reply  to  this. 
Their  eyes  were  searching  the  hilltop  for  riders,  that 
they  might  signal.  But  there  was  no  one  in  sight  any- 
where. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  shout  ? "  suggested  Miss  Allen. 
"  Or  would  it  be  better  to  go  quietly  — " 

Andy  did  not  reply;  nor  did  he  shout.  Andy,  at 
that  moment,  was  fighting  a  dryness  in  his  throat.  He 
could  not  have  called  out  if  he  had  wanted  to.  They 
rode  to  the  stable  and  stopped.  Andy  lifted  the  Kid 
down  and  set  him  on  his  two  feet  by  the  stable  door 
while  he  turned  to  Miss  Allen.  For  once  in  his  life 
he  was  at  a  loss.  He  did  not  know  how  best  to  bring 
the  Kid  to  the  Little  Doctor;  how  best  to  lighten  the 


COWPUNCHER    GOES    HOME     277 

shock  of  seeing  safe  and  well  the  man-child  who  she 
thought  was  dead.  He  hesitated.  Perhaps  he  should 
have  ridden  on  to  the  house  with  him.  Perhaps  he 
should  have  fired  the  signal  when  first  he  came  into  the 
coulee.  Perhaps  .  .  . 

The  Kid  himself  swept  aside  Andy's  uncertainties. 
Adeline,  the  cat,  came  out  of  the  stable  and  looked  at 
them  contemplatively.  Adeline  still  had  the  string  tied 
to  her  tail,  and  a  wisp  of  paper  tied  to  the  string.  The 
Kid  pounced  and  caught  her  by  the  middle. 

"  I  guess  I  can  tie  knots  so  they  stay,  by  cripes !  " 
he  shouted  vaingloriously.  "  I  guess  Happy  Jack  can't 
tie  strings  any  better  ?n  me,  can  he  ?  Nice  kitty  — 
c'm  back  here,  you  son-a-gun !  " 

Adeline  had  not  worried  over  the  absence  of  the  Kid, 
but  his  hilarious  arrival  seemed  to  worry  her  consider- 
ably. She  went  bounding  up  the  path  to  the  house, 
and  after  her  went  the  Kid,  yelling  epithets  which  were 
a  bit  shocking  for  one  of  his  age. 

So  he  came  to  the  porch  just  when  Chip  and  the  Little 
Doctor  reached  it,  white-faced  and  trembling.  Adeline 
paused  to  squeeze  under  the  steps,  and  the  Kid?  catch- 
ing her  by  the  tail,  dragged  her  back  yowling.  While 
his  astounded  parents  watched  him  unbelievingly,  the 
Kid  gripped  Adeline  firmly  and  started  up  the  steps. 

"  I   ketched   the   son-a-gun !  "    he   cried   jubilantly. 


278     FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

"  Say,  I  seen  a  skink,  Daddy  Chip,  and  I  f  rowed  a 
rock  and  knocked  his  block  off  'cause  he  was  going  to 
swipe  my  grub.  Was  you  s'prised,  Doctor  Dell  ?  " 

Doctor  Dell  did  not  say.  Doctor  Dell  was  kneeling 
on  the  porch  floor  with  the  Kid  held  closer  in  her  arms 
than  ever  he  held  the  cat,  and  she  was  crying  and 
laughing  and  kissing  him  all  at  once  —  though  nobody 
except  a  mother  can  perform  that  feat. 


CHAPTEK  XXI 

THE    FIGHT    GOES    ON 

IT  is  amazing  how  quickly  life  swings  back  to  the 
normal  after  even  so  harrowing  an  experience  as 
had  come  to  the  Flying  U.  Tragedy  had  hovered  there 
a  while  and  had  turned  away  with  a  smile,  and  the  smile 
was  reflected  upon  the  faces  and  in  the  eyes  of  everyone 
upon  whose  souls  had  fallen  her  shadow.  The  Kid  was 
safe,  and  he  was  well,  and  he  had  not  suffered  from  the 
experience;  on  the  contrary  he  spent  most  of  his  wak- 
ing hours  in  recounting  his  adventures  to  an  admiring 
audience.  He  was  a  real  old  cowpuncher.  He  had 
gone  into  the  wilderness  and  he  had  proven  the  stuff 
that  was  in  him.  He  had  made  "  dry-camp  "  just  ex- 
actly as  well  as  any  of  the  Happy  Family  could  have 
done.  He  had  slept  out  under  the  stars  rolled  in  a 
blanket  —  and  do  you  think  for  one  minute  that  he 
would  ever  submit  to  lace-trimmed  nighties  again  ?  If 
you  do,  ask  the  Little  Doctor  what  the  Kid  said  on  the 
first  night  after  his  return,  when  she  essayed  to  robe 
him  in  spotless  white  and  rock  him,  held  tight  in  her 
starved  arms.  Or  you  might  ask  his  Daddy  Chip,  who 


280     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

hovered  pretty  close  to  them  both,  his  eyes  betraying 
how  his  soul  gave  thanks.  Or  —  never  mind,  I'll  tell 
you  myself. 

The  Little  Doctor  brought  the  nightie,  and  reached 
out  her  two  eager  arms  to  take  the  kid  off  Chip's  knees 
where  he  was  perched  contentedly  relating  his  adven- 
tures with  sundry  hair-raising  additions  born  of  his 
imagination.  The  Kid  was  telling  Daddy  Chip  about 
the  skunk  he  saw,  and  he  hated  to  be  interrupted.  He 
looked  at  his  Doctor  Dell  and  at  the  familiar,  white 
garment  with  lace  at  the  neck  and  wristbands,  and  he 
waved  his  hand  with  a  gesture  of  dismissal. 

"  Aw,  take  that  damn7  thing  away !  "  he  told  her  in 
the  tone  of  the  real  old  cowpuncher.  "  When  I  get 
ready  to  hit  the  bed-ground,  a  blanket  is  all  I'll  need." 

Lest  you  should  think  him  less  lovable  than  he  really 
was,  I  must  add  that,  when  Chip  set  him  down  hastily 
so  that  he  himself  could  rush  off  somewhere  and  laugh 
in  secret,  the  Kid  spread  his  arms  with  a  little  chuckle 
and  rushed  straight  at  his  Doctor  Dell  and  gave  her  a 
real  bear  hug. 

"  I  want  to  be  rocked,"  he  told  her  —  and  was  her 
own  baby  man  again,  except  that  he  absolutely  refused 
to  reconsider  the  nightgown.  "  And  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  a  story  —  about  when  Silver  breaked  his  leg. 
Silver's  a  good  ole  scout,  you  bet.  I  don't  know  what 


THE    FIGHT    GOES    ON        281 

I'd  a  done  'thout  Silver.  And  tell  about  the  bunch 
makin'  a  man  outa  straw  to  scare  you,  and  the  horses 
runned  away.  I  was  such  a  far  ways,  Doctor  Dell, 
and  I  couldn't  get  back  to  hear  them  stories  and  I've 
most  forgot  about  'em.  And  tell  about  Whizzer,  Doctor 
Dell." 

The  Little  Doctor  rocked  him  and  told  him  of  the 
old  days,  and  she  never  again  brought  him  his  lace- 
trimmed  nightie  at  bedtime.  She  never  mentioned  his 
language  upon  the  subject,  either.  The  Little  Doctor 
was  learning  some  things  about  her  man-child,  and  one 
of  them  was  this:  When  he  rode  away  into  the  Bad- 
lands and  was  lost,  other  things  were  lost,  and  lost 
permanently ;  he  was  no  longer  her  baby,  for  all  he  liked 
to  be  rocked.  He  had  come  back  to  her  changed,  so 
that  she  studied  him  amazedly  while  she  worshipped. 
He  had  entered  boldly  into  the  life  which  men  live,  and 
he  would  never  come  back  entirely  to  the  old  order  of 
things.  He  would  never  be  her  baby;  there  would  be 
a  difference,  even  while  she  held  him  in  her  arms  and 
rocked  him  to  sleep. 

She  knew  that  it  was  so,  when  the  Kid  insisted,  next 
day,  upon  going  home  with  the  bunch;  with  Andy, 
rather,  who  was  just  now  the  Kid's  particular  hero. 
He  had  to  help  the  bunch  he  said ;  they  needed  him,  and 
Andy  needed  him  and  Miss  Allen  needed  him. 


282     FLYING    ITS    LAST    STAND 

"Aw,  you  needn't  be  scared,  Doctor  Dell,"  lie  told 
her  shrewdly.  "  I  ain't  going  to  find  them  brakes  any 
more.  I'll  stick  with  the  bunch,  cross  my  heart.  And 
I'll  come  back  tonight  if  you're  scared  'thout  me. 
Honest  to  gran'ma,  I've  got  to  go  and  help  the  bunch 
lick  the  stumn'  out  a  them  nesters,  Doctor  Dell." 

The  Little  Doctor  looked  at  him  strangely,  hugged 
him  tight  —  and  let  him  go.  Chip  would  be  with  them, 
&nd  he  would  bring  the  Kid  home  safely,  and  —  the 
limitations  of  dooryard  play  no  longer  sufficed;  her 
fledgling  had  found  what  his  wings  were  for,  and  the 
nest  was  too  little,  now. 

"  We'll  take  care  of  him,"  Andy  promised  her  un- 
•derstandingly.  "  If  Chip  don't  come  up,  this  afternoon, 
I'll  bring  him  home  myself.  Don't  you  worry  a  min- 
ute about  Mm." 

"  I'd  tell  a  man  she  needn't !  "  added  the  Kid  patron- 
izingly. 

"  I  suppose  he's  a  lot  safer  with  you  boys  than  he  is 
here  at  the  ranch  —  unless  one  of  us  stood  over  him  all 
the  time,  or  we  tied  him  up,"  she  told  Andy  gamely. 
"  I  feel  like  a  hen  trying  to  raise  a  duck !  Go  on, 
Buck  —  but  give  mother  a  kiss  first." 

The  Kid  kissed  her  violently  and  with  a  haste  that 
"betrayed  where  his  thoughts  were,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  never  before  had  his  mother  called  him  Buck. 


THE    FIGHT    GOES    ON       283 

To  her  it  was  a  supreme  surrender  of  his  babyhood  — 
to  him  it  was  merely  his  due.  The  Little  Doctor  sighed 
and  watched  him  ride  away  beside  Andy.  "  Children 
are  such  self-centred  little  beasts !  "  she  told  J.  G.  rue- 
fully. "  I  almost  wish  he  was  a  girl." 

"  Ay  ?  If  he  was  a  girl  he  wouldn't  git  lost,  maybe, 
but  some  feller5 d  take  him  away  from  yuh  just  the 
same.  The  Kid's  all  right.  He's  just  the  kind  you 
expect  him  to  be  and  want  him  to  be.  You're  tickled 
to  death  because  he's  like  he  is.  Doggone  it,  Dell,  that 
Kid's  got  the  real  stuff  in  him !  He's  a  dead  ringer  f  er 
his  dad  —  that  ought  to  do  yuh." 

"  It  does,"  the  Little  Doctor  declared.  "  But  it  does, 
seem  as  if  he  might  be  contented  here  with  me  for  a  little 
while  —  after  such  a  horrible  time  — " 

"  It  wasn't  horrible  to  him,  yuh  want  to  recollect. 
Doggone  it,  I  wish  that  Blake  would  come  back.  You 
write  to  him,  Dell,  and  tell  him  how  things  is  stacking 
up.  He  oughta  be  here  on  the  ground.  No  tellin* 
what  them  nesters'll  build  up  next." 

So  the  Old  Man  slipped  back  into  the  old  channels 
of  worry  and  thought,  just  as  life  itself  slips  back  after 
a  stressful  period.  The  Little  Doctor  sighed  again  and 
sat  down  to  write  the  letter  and  to  discuss  with  the  Old 
Man  what  she  should  say. 

There  was  a  good  deal  to  say.     For  one  thing,  more 


284     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

contests  had  been  filed  and  more  shacks  built  upon 
-claims  belonging  to  the  Happy  Family.  She  must  tell 
Blake  that.  Also,  Blake  must  help  make  some  arrange- 
ment whereby  the  Happy  Family  could  hire  an  outfit 
to  gather  their  stock  and  the  alien  stock  which  they 
meant  to  drive  back  out  of  the  Badlands.  And  there 
was  Irish,  who  had  quietly  taken  to  the  hills  again  as 
soon  as  the  Kid  returned.  Blake  was  needed  to  look 
into  that  particular  bit  of  trouble  and  try  and  discover 
just  how  serious  it  was.  The  man  whom  Irish  had 
floored  with  a  chair  was  apparently  hovering  close  to 
death  —  and  there  were  those  who  emphasized  the  ad- 
verb and  asserted  that  the  hurt  was  only  apparent,  but 
could  prove  nothing. 

"  And  you  tell  'im,"  directed  the  Old  Man  queru- 
lously, "  that  I'll  stand  good  for  his  time  while  he's 
lookin'  after  things  for  the  boys.  And  tell  ?im  if  he's 
so  doggoned  scared  I'll  buy  into  the  game,  he  needn't 
to  show  up  here  at  the  ranch  at  all ;  tell  him  to  stay  in 
Dry  Lake  if  he  wants  to  —  serve  him  right  to  stop  at 
that  hotel  fer  a  while.  But  tell  him  for  the  Lord's  sake 
git  a  move  on.  The  way  it  looks  to  me,  things  is  piling 
up  on  them  boys  till  they  can't  hardly  see  over  the  top, 
and  something's  got  to  be  done.  Tell  'im  —  here! 
Give  me  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  pencil  and  I'll  tell  him 
-a  few  things  myself!  Chances  are  you'd  smooth  'em 


THE    FIGHT    GOES    ON       285 

out  too  much,  gitting  'em  on  paper.  And  the  things- 
I've  got  to  say  to  Blake  don't  want  any  smoothing." 

The  things  he  wrote  painfully  with  his  rheumatic 
hand  were  not  smoothed  for  politeness'  sake,  and  it 
made  the  Old  Man  feel  better  to  get  them  off  his  mind. 
He  read  the  letter  over  three  times,  and  lingered  over 
the  most  scathing  sentences  relishfully.  He  sent  one 
of  his  new  men  to  town  for  the  express  purpose  of  mail- 
ing that  letter,  and  he  felt  a  glow  of  satisfaction  at 
actually  speaking  his  mind  upon  the  subject. 

Perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  he  did  not  know  that 
Blake  was  in  Dry  Lake  when  the  letter  reached  his 
office  in  Helena,  and  that  it  was  forwarded  to  the  place- 
whence  it  had  started.  Blake  was  already  "  getting  a 
mov.e  on,"  and  he  needed  no  such  spur  as  the  Old  Man's 
letter.  But  the  letter  did  the  Old  Man  a  lot  of  good, 
so  that  it  served  its  purpose. 

Blake  had  no  intention  of  handling  the  case  from  the 
Flying  IT  porch,  for  instance.  He  had  laid  his  plans 
quite  independently  of  the  Flying  U  outfit.  He  had 
no  intention  of  letting  Irish  be  arrested  upon  a  trumped- 
up  charge,  and  he  managed  to  send  a  word  of  warning 
to  that  hot-headed  young  man  not  to  put  himself  in  the 
way  of  any  groping  arm  of  the  law;  it  was  so  much 
simpler  than  arrest  and  preliminary  trial  and  bail,  and 
all  that.  He  had  sent  word  to  Weary  to  come  and  see 


286     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

him,  before  ever  he  received  the  Old  Man's  letter,  and 
he  had  placed  at  Weary's  disposal  what  funds  would  be 
needed  for  the  immediate  plans  of  the  Happy  Family. 
He  had  attended  in  person  to  the  hauling  of  the  fence 
material  to  their  boundary  line  on  the  day  he  arrived 
.and  discovered  by  sheer  accident  that  the  stuff  was  still 
in  the  warehouse  of  the  general  store. 

After  he  did  all  that,  the  Honorable  Blake  received 
the  Old  Man's  letter,  read  it  through  slowly  and  after- 
wards stroked  down  his  Vandyke  beard  and  laughed 
quietly  to  himself.  The  letter  itself  was  both  peremp- 
tory and  profane,  and  commanded  the  Honorable  Blake 
to  do  exactly  what  he  had  already  done,  and  what  he 
intended  to  do  when  the  time  came  for  the  doing. 


CHAPTEE  XXII 

LAWFUL    IMPROVEMENTS 

FLORENCE  GRACE  HALLMAN  must  not  be- 
counted  a  woman  without  principle  or  kindness, 
of  heart  or  those  qualities  which  make  women  beloved 
of  men.  She  was  a  pretty  nice  young  woman,  unless, 
one  roused  her  antagonism.  Had  Andy  Green,  for  in- 
stance, accepted  in  good  faith  her  offer  of  a  position 
with  the  Syndicate,  he  would  have  found  her  generous, 
and  humorous  and  loyal  and  kind.  He  would  probably 
have  fallen  in  love  with  her  before  the  summer  was. 
over,  and  he  would  never  have  discovered  in  her  nature, 
that  hardness  and  that  ability  for  spiteful  scheming 
which  came  to  the  surface  and  made  the  whole  Happy 
Family  look  upon  her  as  an  enemy. 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  was  intensely  human,  as 
well  as  intensely  loyal  to  her  firm.  She  had  liked  Andy 
Green  better  than  anyone  —  herself  included  —  real- 
ized. It  was  not  altogether  her  vanity  that  was  hurt 
when  she  discovered  how  he  had  worked  against  her  — 
how  little  her  personality  had  counted  with  him.  She 
felt  chagrined  and  humiliated  and  as  though  nothing: 


288     FLYING    ITS    LAST    STAND 

save  the  complete  subjugation  of  Andy  Green  and  the 
complete  thwarting  of  his  plans  could  ease  her  own  hurt. 

Deep  in  her  heart  she  hoped  that  he  would  eventually 
want  her  to  forgive  him  his  treachery.  She  would  give 
him  a  good,  hard  fight  —  she  would  show  him  that  she 
was  mistress  of  the  situation.  She  would  force  him  to 
respect  her  as  a  foe;  after  that  —  Andy  Green  was 
human,  certainly.  She  trusted  to  her  feminine  intui- 
tion to  say  just  what  should  transpire  after  the  fight; 
trusted  to  her  feminine  charm  also  to  bring  her  whatever 
she  might  desire. 

That  was  the  personal  side  of  the  situation.  There 
was  also  the  professional  side,  which  urged  her  to  do 
battle  for  the  interests  of  her  firm.  And  since  both  the 
personal  and  the  professional  aspects  of  the'  case  pointed 
to  the  same  general  goal,  it  may  be  assumed  that  Flor- 
ence Grace  was  prepared  to  make  a  stiff  fight. 

Then  Andy  Green  proceeded  to  fall  in  love  with  that 
sharp-tongued  Eosemary  Allen;  and  Eosemary  Allen 
had  no  better  taste  than  to  let  herself  be  lost  and  finally 
found  by  Andy,  and  had  the  nerve  to  show  very  plainly 
that  she  not  only  approved  of  his  love  but  returned  it. 
After  that,  Florence  Grace  was  in  a  condition  to  stop 
at  nothing  —  short  of  murder  —  that  would  defeat  the 
Happy  Family  in  their  latest  project. 

While  all  the  Bear  Paws  country  was  stirred  up  over 


LAWFUL    IMPROVEMENTS     289 

the  lost  child,  Florence  Grace  Hallman  said  it  was  too 
bad,  and  had  they  found  him  yet  ?  and  went  right  along 
planting  contestants  upon  the  claims  of  the  Happy 
Family.  She  encouraged  the  building  of  claim-shacks 
and  urged  firmness  in  holding  possession  of  them.  She 
visited  the  man  whom  Irish  had  knocked  down  with  a 
bottle  of  whisky,  and  she  had  a  long  talk  with  him  and 
with  the  doctor  who  attended  him.  She  saw  to  it  that 
the  contest  notices  were  served  promptly  upon  the 
Happy  Family,  and  she  hurried  in  shipments  of  stock. 
Oh,  she  was  very  busy  indeed,  during  the  week  that  was 
spent  in  hunting  the  Kid.  When  he  was  found,  and 
the  rumor  of  an  engagement  between  Rosemary  Allen 
and  that  treacherous  Andy  Green  reached  her,  she  was 
busier  still ;  but  since  she  had  changed  her  methods  and 
was  careful  to  mask  her  real  purpose  behind  an  air  of 
passive  resentment,  her  industry  became  less  apparent. 

The  Happy  Family  did  not  pay  much  attention  to 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  and  her  studied  opposition. 
They  were  pretty  busy  attending  to  their  own  affairs; 
Andy  Green  was  not  only  busy  but  very  much  in  love, 
so  that  he  almost  forgot  the  existence  of  Florence  Grace 
except  on  the  rare  occasions  when  he  met  her  riding  over 
the  prairie  trails. 

First  of  all  they  rounded  up  the  stock  that  had  been 
scattered,  and  they  did  not  stop  when  they  crossed  An- 


290    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

telope  Coulee  with  the  settlers'  cattle.  They  bedded 
them  there  until  after  dark.  Then  they  drove  them  on 
to  the  valley  of  Dry  Lake,  crossed  that  valley  on  the 
main  traveled  road  and  pushed  the  herd  up  on  Lonesome 
Prairie  and  out  as  far  upon  the  benchland  as  they  had 
time  to  drive  them. 

They  did  not  make  much  effort  toward  keeping  it  a 
secret.  Indeed  Weary  told  three  or  four  of  the  most 
indignant  settlers,  next  day,  where  they  would  find  their 
cattle.  But  he  added  that  the  feed  was  pretty  good  back 
there,  and  advised  them  to  leave  the  stock  out  there  for 
the  present. 

"  It  isn't  going  to  do  you  fellows  any  good  to  rear  up 
on  your  hind  legs  and  make  a  holler,"  he  said  calmly. 
"  We  haven't  hurt  your  cattle.  We  don't  want  to  have 
trouble  with  anybody.  But  we're  pretty  sure  to  have  a 
fine,  large  row  with  our  neighbors  if  they  don't  keep 
on  their  own  side  the  fence." 

That  fence  was  growing  to  be  more  than  a  mere  figure 
of  speech.  The  Happy  Family  did  not  love  the  digging 
of  post-holes  and  the  stretching  of  barbed  wire ;  on  the 
contrary  they  hated  it  so  deeply  that  you  could  not  get 
a  civil  word  out  of  one  of  them  while  the  work  went  on ; 
yet  they  put  in  long  hours  at  the  fence-building. 

They  had  to  take  the  work  in  shifts  on  account  of 
having  their  own  cattle  to  watch  day  and  night.  Some- 


LAWFUL    IMPROVEMENTS     291 

times  it  happened  that  a  man  tamped  posts  or  helped 
stretch  wire  all  day,  and  then  stood  guard  two  or  three 
hours  on  the  herd  at  night ;  which  was  wearing  on  the 
temper.  Sometimes,  because  they  were  tired,  they 
quarrelled  over  small  things. 

New  shipments  of  cattle,  too,  kept  coming  to  Dry 
Lake.  Invariably  these  would  be  driven  out  towards 
Antelope  Coulee  —  farther  if  the  drivers  could  manage 
it  —  and  would  have  to  be  driven  back  again  with  what 
patience  the  Happy  Family  could  muster.  No  one 
helped  them  among  the  settlers.  There  was  every  atti- 
tude among  the  claim-dwellers,  from  open  opposition  to 
latent  antagonism.  None  were  quite  neutral  —  and 
yet  the  Happy  Family  did  not  bother  any  save  those 
who  had  filed  contests  to  their  claims,  or  who  took  ac- 
tive part  in  the  cattle  driving. 

The  Happy  Family  were  not  half  as  brutal  as  they 
might  have  been.  In  spite  of  their  no-trespassing  signs 
they  permitted  settlers  to  drive  across  their  claims  with 
wagons  and  water-barrels,  to  haul  water  from  One  Man 
Creek  when  the  springs  and  the  creek  in  Antelope  Coulee 
went  dry. 

They  did  not  attempt  to  move  the  shacks  of  the  later 
contestants  off  their  claims.  Though  they  hated  the 
sight  of  them  and  of  the  owners  who  bore  themselves 
with  such  provocative  assurance,  they  grudged  the  time 


292     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

the  moving  would  take.  Besides  that  the  Honorable 
Blake  had  told  them  that  moving  the  shacks  would  ac- 
complish no  real,  permanent  good.  Within  thirty  days 
they  must  appear  before  the  register  and  receiver  and 
file  answer  to  the  contest,  and  he  assured  them  that  for- 
bearance upon  their  part  would  serve  to  strengthen  their 
case  with  the  Commissioner. 

It  goes  to  prove  how  deeply  in  earnest  they  were,  that 
they  immediately  began  to  practice  assiduously  the  vir- 
tues of  mildness  and  forbearance.  They  could,  he  told 
them,  postpone  the  filing  of  their  answers  until  close 
to  the  end  of  the  thirty  days;  which  would  serve  also 
to  delay  the  date  of  actual  trial  of  the  contests,  and  give 
the  Happy  Family  more  time  for  their  work. 

Their  plans  had  enlarged  somewhat.  They  talked 
now  of  fencing  the  whole  tract  on  all  four  sides,  and 
of  building  a  dam  across  the  mouth  of  a  certain  coulee 
in  the  foothills  which  drained  several  miles  of  rough 
country,  thereby  converting  the  coulee  into  a  reservoir 
that  would  furnish  water  for  their  desert  claims.  It 
would  take  work,  of  course;  but  the  Happy  Family 
were  beginning  to  see  prosperity  on  the  trail  ahead  and 
nothing  in  the  shape  of  hard  work  could  stop  them 
from  coming  to  hang-grips  with  fortune. 

Chip  helped  them  all  he  could,  but  he  had  the  Flying 
U  to  look  after,  and  that  without  the  good  team-work 


LAWFUL   IMPROVEMENTS     293 

of  the  Happy  Family  which  had  kept  things  moving 
along  so  smoothly.  The  team-work  now  was  being  used 
in  a  different  game;  a  losing  game,  one  would  say  at 
first  glance. 

So  far  the  summer  had  been  favorable  to  dry-farm- 
ing. The  more  enterprising  of  the  settlers  had  some 
grain  and  planted  potatoes  upon  freshly  broken  soil,  and 
these  were  growing  apace.  They  did  not  know  about 
those  scorching  August  winds,  that  might  shrivel  crops 
in  a  day.  They  did  not  realize  that  early  frosts  might 
kill  what  the  hot  winds  spared.  They  became  enthu- 
siastic over  dry-farming,  and  their  resentment  toward 
the  Happy  Family  increased  as  their  enthusiasm  waxed 
strong.  The  Happy  Family  complained  to  one  another 
that  you  couldn't  pry  a  nester  loose  from  his  claim 
with  a  crowbar. 

In  this  manner  did  civilization  march  out  and  take 
possession  of  the  high  prairies  that  lay  close  to  the  Fly- 
ing U.  They  had  a  Sunday  School  organized,  with 
the  meetings  held  in  a  double  shack  near  the  trail  to 
Dry  Lake.  The  Happy  Family,  riding  that  way,  some- 
times heard  voices  mingled  in  the  shrill  singing  of 
some  hymn  where,  a  year  before,  they  had  listened  to 
the  hunting  song  of  the  coyote. 

Eighty  acres  to  the  man  —  with  that  climate  and  that 
soil  they  never  could  make  it  pay;  with  that  soil  es- 


294    FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

pecially,  since  it  was  mostly  barren.  The  Happy 
Family  knew  it,  and  could  find  it  in  their  hearts  to 
pity  the  men  who  were  putting  in  dollars  and  time  and 
hard  work  there.  But  for  obvious  reasons  they  did 
not  put  their  pity  into  speech. 

They  fenced  their  west  line  in  record  time.  There 
was  only  one  gate  in  the  whole  length  of  it,  and  that 
was  on  the  trail  to  Dry  Lake.  Not  content  with  trust- 
ing to  the  warning  of  four  strands  of  barbed  wire 
stretched  so  tight  that  they  hummed  to  the  touch,  they 
took  turns  in  watching  it  — "  riding  fence,"  in  range 
parlance  —  and  in  watching  the  settlers'  cattle. 

To  H.  J.  Owens  and  his  fellow  contestants  they  paid 
not  the  slightest  attention,  because  the  Honorable  Blake 
had  urged  them  personally  to  ignore  any  and  all  claim- 
ants. To  Florence  Grace  Hallman  they  gave  no  heed, 
believing  that  she  had  done  her  worst,  and  that  her 
worst  was  after  all  pretty  weak,  since  the  contests  she 
had  caused  to  be  filed  could  not  possibly  be  approved  by 
the  government  so  long  as  the  Happy  Family  continued 
to  abide  by  every  law  and  by-law  and  condition  and 
requirement  in  their  present  thorough-going  and  ex- 
emplary manner. 

You  should  have  seen  how  mild-mannered  and  how 
industrious  the  Happy  Family  were,  during  those  three 
weeks  which  followed  the  excitement  of  the  Kid's  ad- 


LAWFUL    IMPROVEMENTS     295 

venturing  into  the  wild.  You  would  have  been  as- 
tonished, and  you  would  have  made  the  mistake  of 
thinking  that  they  had  changed  permanently  and  might 
be  expected  now  to  settle  down  with  wives  and  raise 
families  and  hay  and  cattle  and  potatoes,  and  grow 
beards,  perhaps,  and  become  well-to-do  ranchers. 

The  Happy  Family  were  almost  convinced  that  they 
were  actually  leaving  excitement  behind  them  for  good 
and  all.  They  might  hold  back  the  encroaching  tide 
of  immigration  from  the  rough  land  along  the  river  — 
that  sounded  like  something  exciting,  to  be  sure.  But 
they  must  hold  back  the  tide  with  legal  proceedings  and 
by  pastoral  pursuits,  and  that  promised  little  in  the 
way  of  brisk,  decisive  action  and  strong  nerves  and  all 
those  qualities  which  set  the  Happy  Family  somewhat 
apart  from  their  fellows. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE    WATEK    QUESTION    AND    SOME    GOSSIP 

MISS  EOSEMAEY  ALLEN  rode  down  into  One 
Man  Coulee  and  boldly  up  to  the  cabin  of  Andy 
Green,  and  shouted  musically  for  him  to  come  forth. 
Andy  made  a  hasty  pass  at  his  hair  with  a  brush, 
jerked  his  tie  straight  and  came  out  eagerly.  There 
was  no  hesitation  in  his  manner.  He  went  straight 
up  to  her  and  reached  up  to  pull  her  from  the  saddle, 
that  he  might  hold  her  in  his  arms  and  kiss  her — 
after  the  manner  of  bold  young  men  who  are  very  much 
in  love.  But  Miss  Rosemary  Allen  stopped  him  with 
a  push  that  was  not  altogether  playful,  and  scowled  at 
him  viciously. 

"  I  am  in  a  most  furious  mood  today,"  she  said.  "  I 
want  to  scratch  somebody's  eyes  out!  I  want  to  say 
words.  Don't  come  close,  or  I  might  pull  your  hair 
or  something,  James."  She  called  him  James  because 
that  was  not  his  name,  and  because  she  had  learned  a 
good  deal  about  his  past  misdeeds  and  liked  to  take  a 
sly  whack  at  his  notorious  tendency  to  forget  the  truth, 
by  calling  him  Truthful  James. 


THE    WATER   QUESTION     297 

"  All  right ;  that  suits  me  fine.  It's  worth  a  lot  to 
have  you  close  enough  to  pull  hair.  Where  have  you 
been  all  this  long  while  ? "  Being  a  hold  young  man 
and  very  much  in  love,  he  kissed  her  in  spite  of  her 
professed  viciousness. 

"  Oh,  I've  heen  to  town  —  it  hasn't  been  more  than 
three  days  since  we  met  and  had  that  terrible  quarrel, 
James.  What  was  it  about  ?  "  She  frowned  down  at 
him  thoughtfully.  "  I'm  still  furious  about  it  —  what- 
ever it  is.  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Man,  that  I  am  an  out- 
law amongst  my  neighbors,  and  that  our  happy  little 
household,  up  there  on  the  hill,  is  a  house  divided 
against  itself  ?  I've  put  up  a  green  burlap  curtain  on 
my  southwest  corner,  and  bought  me  a  smelly  oil 
stove  and  I  pos-i-tively  refuse  to  look  at  my  neighbors 
or  speak  to  them.  I'm  going  to  get  some  lumber  and 
board  up  that  side  of  my  house. 

"  Those  three  cats  —  they  get  together  on  the  other 
side  of  my  curtain  and  say  the  meanest  things !  " 

Andy  Green  had  the  temerity  to  laugh.  "  That 
sounds  good  to  me,"  he  told  her  unsympathetically. 
"  Now  maybe  you'll  come  down  and  keep  house  for 
me  and  let  that  pinnacle  go  to  thunder.  It's  no  good 
anyway,  and  I  told  you  so  long  ago.  That  whole  eighty 
acres  of  yours  wouldn't  support  a  family  of  jackrabbits 
a  month.  What  — " 


298     FLYING    U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  And  let  those  old  hens  say  they  drove  me  off  ? 
That  Kate  Price  is  the  limit.  The  things  she  said  to 
me  you  wouldn't  believe.  And  it  all  started  over  my 
going  with  little  Buck  a  few  times  to  ride  along  your 
fence  when  you  boys  were  busy.  I  consider  that  I 
had  a  perfect  right  to  ride  where  I  pleased.  Of  course 
they're  furious  anyway,  because  I  don't  side  against 
you  boys  and  —  and  all  that.  When  —  when  they 
found  out  about  —  you  and  me,  James,  they  said  some 
pretty  sarcastic  things,  but  I  didn't  pay  any  attention 
to  that.  Poor  old  freaks,  I  expected  them  to  be  jealous, 
because  nobody  ever  pays  any  attention  to  them.  Kate 
Price  is  the  worst  —  she's  an  old  maid.  The  others 
have  had  husbands  and  can  act  superior. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  mind  the  things  they  said  then ;  I 
took  that  for  granted.  But  a  week  or  so  ago  Florence 
Hallman  came,  and  she  did  stir  things  up  in  great 
style!  Since  then  the  girls  have  hardly  spoken  to  me 
except  to  say  something  insulting.  And  Florence 
Grace  came  right  out  and  called  me  a  traitor ;  that  was 
before  little  Buck  and  I  took  to  i  riding  fence '  as  you 
call  it,  for  you  boys.  You  imagine  what  they've  been 
saying  since  then !  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  care  ?  You  don't  have  to  stay 
with  them,  and  you  know  it.  I'm  just  waiting — : 

"  Well,  but  I'm  no  quitter,  James.     I'm  going  to 


THE    WATER    QUESTION     299 

hold  down  that  claim  now  if  I  have  to  wear  a  six- 
shooter  !  "  Her  eyes  twinkled  at  that  idea.  "  Besides, 
I  can  stir  them  up  now  and  then  and  get  them  to  say 
things  that  are  useful.  For  instance,  Florence  Hall- 
man  told  Kate  Price  about  that  last  trainload  of  cattle 
coming,  and  that  they  were  going  to  cut  your  fence  and 
drive  them  through  in  the  night  —  and  I  stirred  dear 
little  Katie  up  so  she  couldn't  keep  still  about  that. 
And  therefore — "  She  reached  out  and  gave  Andy 
Green's  ear  a  small  tweak  — "  somebody  found  out 
about  it,  and  a  lot  of  somebodys  happened  around  that 
way  and  just  quietly  managed  to  give  folks  a  hint  that 
there  was  fine  grass  somewhere  else.  That  saved  a  lot 
of  horseflesh  and  words  and  work,  didn't  it  ?  " 

"  It  sure  did."  Andy  smiled  up  at  her  worshipfully. 
"  Just  the  same  — " 

"  But  listen  here !  Nice,  level-headed  Katie-girl  has 
lost  her  temper  since  then,  and  let  out  a  little  more  that 
is  useful  knowledge  to  somebody.  There's  one  great 
weak  point  in  the  character  of  Florence  Hallman; 
maybe  you  have  noticed  it.  She's  just  simply  got  to 
have  somebody  to  tell  things  to,  and  she  doesn't  always 
show  the  best  judgment  in  her  choice  of  a  confes- 
sional — " 

"  I've  noticed  that  before,"  Andy  Green  admitted, 
and  smiled  reminiscently.  "  She  sure  does  talk  too 


300    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

much  —  for  a  lady  that  has  so  much  up  her  sleeve." 

"  Yes  —  and  she's  been  making  a  chum  of  Kate 
Price  since  she  discovered  what  an  untrustworthy 
creature  I  am.  I  did  a  little  favor  for  Irish  Mallory, 
James.  I  overheard  Florence  Grace  talking  to  Kate 
about  that  man  who  is  supposed  to  be  at  death's  door. 
So  I  made  a  trip  to  Great  Falls,  if  you  please,  and  I 
scouted  around  and  located  the  gentleman  —  well,  any- 
way, I  gave  that  nice,  sleek  little  lawyer  of  yours  a  few 
facts  that  will  let  Irish  come  back  to  his  claim  — " 

"  Irish  has  been  coming  back  to  his  claim  pretty 
regular  as  it  is,"  Andy  informed  her  quietly.  "  Did 
you  think  he  was  hiding  out,  all  this  time  ?  Why  "  — 
he  laughed  at  her  " — you  talked  to  him  yourself,  one 
day,  and  thought  it  was  Weary.  Remember  when  you 
came  over  with  the  mail  ?  That  was  Irish  helping  me 
string  wire.  He's  been  wearing  Weary 's  hat  and 
clothes  and  cultivating  a  twinkle  to  his  eyes  —  that's 
all." 

"  Why,  I  —  well,  anyway,  that  man  they've  been 
making  a  fuss  over  is  just  as  well  as  you  are,  James. 
They  only  wanted  to  get  Irish  in  jail  and  make  a  little 
trouble  —  pretty  cheap  warfare  at  that,  if  you  want 
my  opinion." 

"  Oh,  well  —  what's  the  odds  ?  While  they're  wast- 
ing time  and  energy  that  way,  we're  going  right  along 


THE   WATER   QUESTION     301 

doing  what  we've  laid  out  to  do.  Say,  do  you  know, 
I'm  kinda  getting  stuck  on  this  ranch  proposition.  If 
I  just  had  a  housekeeper  — " 

Miss  Rosemary  Allen  seldom  let  him  get  heyond  that 
point,  and  she  interrupted  him  now  by  wrinkling  her 
nose  at  him  in  a  manner  that  made  Andy  Green  forget 
altogether  that  he  had  begun  a  sentence  upon  a  sub- 
ject forbidden.  Later  she  went  back  to  her  worries; 
she  was  a  very  persistent  young  woman. 

"  I  hope  you  boys  are  going  to  attend  to  that  contest 
business  right  away,"  she  said,  with  a  pucker  between 
her  eyes  and  not  much  twinkle  in  them.  "  There's 
something  about  that  which  I  don't  quite  understand. 
I  heard  Florence  Hallman  and  Kate  talking  yesterday 
about  it  going  by  default.  Are  you  sure  it's  wise  to 
put  off  filing  your  answers  so  long?  When  are  you 
supposed  to  appear,  James  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  On  or  before  the  twenty-oneth  day  of  July, 
my  dear  girl.  They  lumped  us  up  and  served  us  all 
on  the  same  day  —  I  reckon  to  save  shoe-leather ;  there- 
fore, inasmuch  as  said  adverse  parties  have  got  over  a 
week  left—" 

"  You'd  better  not  take  a  chance,  waiting  till  the  last 
day  in  the  afternoon,"  she  warned  him  vaguely. 
"  Maybe  they  think  you've  forgotten  the  date  or  some- 
thing—  but  whatever  they  think,  I  believe  they're 


302     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

counting  on  your  not  answering  in  time.  I  think 
Florence  Hallman  knows  they  haven't  any  real  proof 
against  you.  I  know  she  knows  it.  She's  perfectly 
wild  over  the  way  you  boys  have  stuck  here  and  worked. 
And  from  what  I  can  gather,  she  hasn't  been  able  to 
scrape  up  the  weentiest  bit  of  evidence  that  the  -Flying 
U  is  backing  you  —  and  of  course  that  is  the  only 
ground  they  could  contest  your  claims  on.  So  if  it 
comes  to  trial,  you'll  all  win ;  you're  bound  to.  I  told 
Kate  Price  so  —  and  those  other  old  hens,  yesterday, 
and  that's  what  we  had  the  row  over." 

"  My  money's  on  you,  girl,"  Andy  told  her,  grinning. 
"  How  are  the  wounded  ?  " 

"  The  wounded  ?  Oh,  they've  clubbed  together  this 
morning  and  are  washing  hankies  and  collars  and 
things,  and  talking  about  me.  And  they  have  snouged 
every  speck  of  water  from  the  barrel  —  I  paid  my 
share  for  the  hauling,  too  —  and  the  man  won't  come 
again  till  day  after  tomorrow  with  more.  Fifty  cents 
a  barrel,  straight,  he's  charging  now,  James.  And  you 
boys  with  a  great,  big,  long  creekful  of  it  that  you  can 
get  right  in  and  swim  in !  I've  come  over  to  borrow  two 
water-bags  of  it,  if  you  please,  James.  I  never 
dreamed  water  was  so  precious.  Florence  Hallman 
ought  to  be  made  to  live  on  one  of  these  dry  claims 
she's  fooled  us  into  taking.  I  really  don't  know,  James, 


THE    WATER   QUESTION     303 

what's  going  to  become  of  some  of  these  poor  farmers. 
You  knew,  didn't  you,  that  Mr.  Murphy  spent  nearly 
two  hundred  dollars  boring  a  well  —  and  now  it's  so- 
strong  of  alkali  they  daren't  use  a  drop  of  it?  Mr. 
Murphy  is  living  right  up  to  his  name  and  nationality, 
since  then.  He's  away  back  there  beyond  the  Sands 
place,  you  know.  He  has  to  haul  water  about  six  miles. 
Believe  me,  James,  Florence  Hallman  had  better  keep 
away  from  Murphy !  I  met  him  as  I  was  coming  out 
from  town,  and  he  called  her  a  Jezebel !  " 

"  That's  mild!"  Andy  commented  drily.  "Get 
down,  why  don't  you?  I  want  you  to  take  a  look  at 
the  inside  of  my  shack  and  see  how  bad  I  need  a 
housekeeper  —  since  you  won't  take  my  word  for  it. 
I  hope  every  drop  of  water  leaks  outa  these  bags  before 
you  get  home.  I  hope  old  Mister  falls  down  and  spills 
it.  I've  a  good  mind  not  to  let  you  have  any,  anyway. 
Maybe  you  could  be  starved  and  tortured  into  coming: 
down  here  where  you  belong." 

"  Maybe  I  couldn't.  I'll  get  me  a  barrel  of  my  own,, 
and  hire  Simpson  to  fill  it  four  times  a  week,  if  you 
please!  And  I'll  put  a  lid  with  a  padlock  on  it,  so 
Katie  dear  can't  rob  me  in  the  night  —  and  I'll  use  a 
whole  quart  at  a  time  to  wash  dishes,  and  two  quarts 
when  I  take  a  bath !  I  shall,"  she  asserted  with  much 
emphasis,  "  live  in  luxury,  James !  " 


304     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Andy  laughed  and  waved  his  hand  toward  One  Man 
Creek.  "  That's  all  right  —  but  how  would  you  like  to 
have  that  running  past  your  house,  so  you  could  wake 
up  in  the  night  and  hear  it  go  gurgle-gurgle  ?  Wouldn't 
that  be  all  right  3  " 

Eosemary  Allen  clasped  her  two  gloved  hands  to- 
gether and  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I  should  want  to 
run  out  and  stop  it,"  she  declared.  "  To  think  of  water 
actually  running  around  loose  in  this  world!  And 
think  of  us  up  on  that  dry  prairie,  paying  fifty  cents  a 
barrel  for  it  —  and  a  lot  slopped  out  of  the  barrel  on 
the  road ! "  She  glanced  down  into  Andy's  love- 
lighted  eyes,  and  her  own  softened.  She  placed  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder  and  shook  her  head  at  him  with 
a  tender  remonstrance. 

"  I  know,  boy  —  but  it  isn't  in  me  to  give  up  any- 
thing I  set  out  to  do,  any  more  than  it  is  in  you.  You 
wouldn't  like  me  half  so  well  if  I  could  just  drop  that 
claim  and  think  no  more  about  it.  I've  got  enough 
money  to  commute,  when  the  time  comes,  and  I'll  feel 
a  lot  better  if  I  go  through  with  it  now  I've  started. 
And  —  James ! "  She  smiled  at  him  wistfully. 
"  Even  if  it  is  only  eighty  acres,  it  will  make  good  pas- 
ture, and  —  it  will  help  some,  won't  it  ?  " 

After  that  you  could  not  expect  Andy  Green  to  do 
any  more  badgering  or  to  discourage  the  girl.  He  did 


THE    WATER    QUESTION     305 

like  her  better  for  having  grit  and  a  mental  backbone  — 
and  he  found  a  way  of  telling  her  so  and  of  making  the 
assurance  convincing  enough. 

He  filled  her  canvas  water-bags  and  went  with  her 
to  carry  them,  and  he  cheered  her  much  with  his  air- 
castles.  Afterwards  he  took  the  team  and  rustled  a 
water-barrel  and  hauled  her  a  barrel  of  water,  and  gave 
Kate  Price  a  stony-eyed  stare  when  she  was  caught 
watching  him  superciliously;  and  in  divers  ways 
managed  to  make  Miss  Rosemary  Allen  feel  that  she 
was  fighting  a  good  fight  and  that  the  odds  were  all  in 
her  favor  and  in  the  favor  of  the  Happy  Family  — 
and  of  Andy  Green  in  particular.  She  felt  that  the 
spite  of  her  three  very  near  neighbors  was  really  a 
matter  to  laugh  over,  and  the  spleen  of  Florence  Hall- 
man  a  joke. 

But  for  all  that  she  gave  Andy  Green  one  last  warn- 
ing when  he  climbed  up  to  the  spring  seat  of  the  wagon 
and  unwound  the  lines  from  the  brake-handle,  ready  to 
drive  back  to  his  own  work.  She  went  close  to  the  front 
wheel,  so  that  eavesdroppers  could  not  hear,  and  held 
her  front  hair  from  blowing  across  her  earnest,  wind- 
tanned  face  while  she  looked  up  at  him. 

"  !N"ow  remember,  boy,  do  go  and  file  your  answer 
to  those  contests  —  all  of  you !  "  she  urged.  "  I  don't 
know  why  —  but  I've  a  feeling  some  kind  of  a  scheme 


306    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

is  being  hatched  to  make  you  trouble  on  that  one  point. 
And  if  you  see  Buck,  tell  him  I'll  ride  fence  with  him 
tomorrow  again.  If  you  realized  how  much  I  like  that 
old  cowpuncher,  you'd  be  horribly  jealous,  James." 

"  I'm  jealous  right  now,  without  realizing  a  thing 
except  that  I've  got  to  go  off  and  leave  you  here  with 
a  bunch  of  lemons,"  he  retorted  —  and  he  spoke  loud 
enough  so  that  any  eavesdroppers  might  hear. 


CHAPTEK  XXIV 

THE    KID    IS    USED    FOE    A    PAWN    IN    THE    GAME 

DID  you  ever  stop  to  think  of  the  tremendous 
moral  lesson  in  the  Bible  tale  of  David  and 
Goliath?  And  how  great,  human  issues  are  often  de- 
cided one  way  or  the  other  by  little  things?  Not  all 
crises  are  passed  in  the  clashing  of  swords  and  the  boom 
of  cannon.  It  was  a  pebble  the  size  of  your  thumb-end, 
remember,  that  slew  the  giant. 

In  the  struggle  which  the  Happy  Family  was  making 
to  preserve  the  shrunken  range  of  the  Flying  U,  and 
to  hold  back  the  sweeping  tide  of  immigration,  one 
might  logically  look  for  some  big,  overwhelming  ele- 
ment to  turn  the  tide  one  way  or  the  other.  With  the 
Homeseekers'  Syndicate  backing  the  natural  animosity 
of  the  settlers,  who  had  filed  upon  semi-arid  land  be- 
cause the  Happy  Family  had  taken  all  of  the  tract 
that  was  tillable,  a  big,  open  clash  might  be  considered 
inevitable. 

And  yet  the  struggle  was  resolving  itself  into  the 
question  of  whether  the  contest  filings  should  be  ap- 


308    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

proved  by  the  land-office,  or  the  filings  of  the  Happy 
Family  be  allowed  to  stand  as  having  been  made  in 
good  faith.  Florence  Hallman  therefore,  having  taken 
upon  herself  the  leadership  in  the  contest  fight,  must 
do  one  of  two  things  if  she  would  have  victory  to  salve 
the  hurt  to  her  self-esteem  and  to  vindicate  the  firm's 
policy  in  the  eyes  of  the  settlers. 

She  must  produce  evidence  of  the  collusion  of  the 
Flying  U  outfit  with  the  Happy  Family,  in  the  taking 
of  the  claims.  Or  she  must  connive  to  prevent  the  filing 
of  answers  to  the  contest  notices  within  the  time-limit 
fixed  by  law,  so  that  the  cases  would  go  by  default. 
That,  of  course,  was  the  simplest  —  since  she  had  not 
been  able  to  gather  any  evidence  of  collusion  that  would 
stand  in  court. 

There  was  another  element  in  the  land  struggle  — 
that  was  the  soil  and  climate  that  would  fight  inexora- 
bly against  the  settlers;  but  with  them  we  have  little 
to  do,  since  the  Happy  Family  had  nothing  to  do  with 
them  save  in  a  purely  negative  way. 

A  four-wire  fence  and  a  systematic  patrol  along  the 
line  was  having  its  effect  upon  the  stock  question.  If 
the  settlers  drove  their  cattle  south  until  they  passed 
the  farthest  corner  of  Flying  IT  fence,  they  came 
plump  against  Bert  Rogers'  barbed  boundary  line. 
West  of  that  was  his  father's  place  —  and  that  stretched 


A   PAWN   IN    THE    GAME     309 

to  the  railroad  right-of-way,  fenced  on  either  side  with 
a  stock-proof  barrier  and  hugging  the  Missouri  all  the 
way  to  the  Marias  —  where  were  other  settlers.  If 
they  went  north  until  they  passed  the  fence  of  the 
Happy  Family,  there  were  the  Meeker  holdings  to  bar 
the  way  to  the  very  foot  of  Old  Centennial,  and  as  far 
up  its  sides  as  cattle  would  go. 

The  Happy  Family  had  planned  wisely  when  they 
took  their  claims  in  a  long  chain  that  stretched  across 
the  benchland  north  of  the  Flying  U.  Florence  Grace 
knew  this  perfectly  well  —  but  what  could  she  prove  ? 
The  Happy  Family  had  bought  cattle  of  their  own,  and 
were  grazing  them  lawfully  upon  their  own  claims.  A 
lawyer  had  assured  her  that  there  was  no  evidence  to 
be  gained  there.  They  never  went  near  J.  G.  Whit- 
more,  nor  did  they  make  use  of  his  wagons,  his  teams 
or  his  tools  or  his  money ;  instead  they  hired  what  they 
needed,  openly  and  from  Bert  Rogers.  They  had 
bought  their  cattle  from  the  Flying  U,  and  that  was 
the  extent  of  their  business  relations  —  on  the  surface. 
And  since  collusion  had  been  the  ground  given  for  the 
contests,  it  will  be  easily  seen  what  slight  hope  Florence 
Grace  and  her  clients  must  have  of  winning  any  con- 
test suit.  Still,  there  was  that  alternative  —  the 
Happy  Family  had  been  so  eager  to  build  that  fence 
and  gather  their  cattle  and  put  them  back  on  the  claims, 


310    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

and  so  anxious  lest  in  their  absence  the  settlers  should 
slip  cattle  across  the  dead  line  and  into  the  breaks,  that 
they  had  postponed  their  trip  to  Great  Falls  as  long 
as  possible.  The  Honorable  Blake  had  tacitly  advised 
them  to  do  so;  and  the  Happy  Family  never  gave  a 
thought  to  their  being  hindered  when  they  did  get  ready 
to  attend  to  it. 

But  —  a  pebble  killed  Goliath. 

H.  J.  Owens,  whose  eyes  were  the  wrong  shade  of 
blue,  sat  upon  a  rocky  hilltop  which  overlooked  the  trail 
from  Flying  U  Coulee  and  a  greater  portion  of  the 
shack-dotted  benchland  as  well,  and  swept  the  far 
horizons  with  his  field  glasses.  Just  down  the  eastern 
slope,  where  the  jutting  sandstone  cast  a  shadow,  his 
horse  stood  tied  to  a  dejected  wild-currant  bush.  He 
laid  the  glasses  across  his  knees  while  he  refilled  his 
pipe,  and  tilted  his  hatbrim  to  shield  his  pale  blue  eyes 
from  the  sun  that  was  sliding  past  midday. 

H.  J.  Owens  looked  at  his  watch,  nevertheless,  as 
though  the  position  of  the  sun  meant  nothing  to  him. 
He  scowled  a  little,  stretched  a  leg  straight  out  before 
him  to  ease  it  of  cramp,  and  afterwards  moved  farther 
along  in  the  shade.  The  wind  swept  past  with  a  faint 
whistle,  and  laid  the  ripening  grasses  flat  where  it 
passed.  A  cloud  shadow  moved  slowly  along  the  slope 


A   PAWN   IN    THE    GAME     311 

beneath  him,  and  he  watched  the  darkening  of  the 
earth  where  it  touched,  and  the  sharp  contrast  of  the 
sun-yellowed  sea  of  grass  all  around  it.  H.  J.  Owens 
looked  bored  and  sleepy ;  yet  he  did  not  leave  the  hilltop 
—  nor  did  he  go  to  sleep. 

Instead,  he  lifted  the  glasses,  turned  them  toward 
Flying  U  Coulee  a  half  mile  to  the  south  of  him,  and 
stared  long  at  the  trail.  After  a  few  minutes  he  made 
a  gesture  to  lower  the  glasses,  and  then  abruptly  fixed 
them  steadily  upon  one  spot,  where  the  trail  wound  up 
over  the  crest  of  the  bluff.  He  looked  for  a  minute, 
and  laid  the  glasses  down  upon  a  rock. 

H.  J.  Owens  fumbled  in  the  pocket  of  his  coat,  which 
he  had  folded  and  laid  beside  him  on  the  yellow  gravel 
of  the  hill.  He  found  something  he  wanted,  stood  up, 
and  with  his  back  against  a  boulder  he  faced  to  the 
southwest.  He  was  careful  about  the  direction.  He 
glanced  up  at  the  sun,  squinting  his  eyes  at  the  glare; 
he  looked  at  what  he  held  in  his  hand. 

A  glitter  of  sun  on  glass  showed  briefly.  H.  J. 
Owens  laid  his  palm  over  it,  waited  while  he  could 
count  ten,  and  took  his  palm  away.  Replaced  it, 
waited,  and  revealed  the  glass  again  with  the  sun  glare 
upon  it  full.  He  held  it  so  for  a  full  minute,  and  slid 
the  glass  back  into  his  pocket. 

He  glanced  down  toward  Flying  U  Coulee  again  — 


312     FLYING  ITS    LAST    STAND 

toward  where  the  trail  stretched  like  a  brown  ribbon 
through  the  grass.  He  seemed  to  be  in  something  of 
a  hurry  now  —  if  impatient  movement  meant  anything 
—  yet  he  did  not  leave  the  place  at  once.  He  kept 
looking  off  there  toward  the  southwest  —  off  beyond 
Antelope  Coulee  and  the  sparsely  dotted  shacks  of  the 
settlers. 

A  smudge  of  smoke  rose  thinly  there,  behind  a  hill. 
Unless  one  had  been  watching  the  place,  one  would 
scarcely  have  noticed  it,  but  H.  J.  Owens  saw  it  at 
once  and  smiled  his  twisted  smile  and  went  running 
down  the  hill  to  where  his  horse  was  tied.  He  mounted 
and  rode  down  to  the  level,  skirted  the  knoll  and  came 
out  on  the  trail,  down  which  he  rode  at  an  easy  lope 
until  he  met  the  Kid. 

The  Kid  was  going  to  see  Rosemary  Allen  and  take 
a  ride  with  her  along  the  new  fence ;  but  he  pulled  up 
with  the  air  of  condescension  which  was  his  usual  at- 
titude toward  "  nesters,"  and  in  response  to  the  twisted 
smile  of  H.  J.  Owens  he  grinned  amiably. 

"  Want  to  go  on  a  bear-hunt  with  me,  Buck  ?  "  began 
H.  J".  Owens  with  just  the  right  tone  of  comradeship 
to  win  the  undivided  attention  of  the  Kid. 

"  I  was  goin'  to  ride  fence  with  Miss  Allen,"  the 
Kid  declined  regretfully.  "There  ain't  any  bears. 
Not  very  close,  there  ain't  I  guess  you  musta 


A   PAWN   IN    THE    GAME     313 

swallered  something  Andy  told  you."     He  looked  at 
H.  J.  Owens  tolerantly. 

"  No  sir.  I  never  talked  to  Andy  about  this."  Had 
he  been  perfectly  truthful  he  would  have  added  that 
he  had  not  talked  with  Andy  about  anything  whatever, 
but  he  let  it  go.  "  This  is  a  bear  den  I  found  myself ; 
There's  two  little  baby  cubs,  Buck,  and  I  was  wonder- 
ing if  you  wouldn't  like  to  go  along  and  get  one  for 
a  pet.  You  could  learn  it  to  dance  and  play  soldier, 
and  all  kinds  of  stunts." 

The  Kid's  eyes  shone,  but  he  was  wary.  This  man 
was  a  nester,  so  it  would  be  just  at  well  to  be  careful. 
"  Where  'bouts  is  it  ?  "  he  therefore  demanded  in  a 
tone  of  doubt  that  would  have  done  credit  to  Happy 
Jack. 

"  Oh,  down  over  there  in  the  hills.  It's  a  secret, 
though,  till  we  get  them  out.  Some  fellows  are  after 
them  for  themselves,  Buck.  They  want  to  —  skin 
them." 

"  The  mean  devils!  "  condemned  the  Kid  promptly. 
"I'd  take  a  fall  out  a  them  if  I  ketched  'em  skinning 
any  baby  bear  cubs  while  /  was  around." 

H.  J.  Owens  glanced  behind  him  with  an  uneasiness 
not  altogether  assumed. 

"  Let's  go  down  into  this  next  gully  to  talk  it  over, 
Buck,"  he  suggested  with  an  air  of  secretiveness  that 


314     FLYING   IPS    LAST    STAND 

fired  the  Kid's  imagination.  "  They  started  out  to 
follow  me,  and  I  don't  want  'em  to  see  me  talking  to 
you,  you  know." 

The  Kid  went  with  him  unsuspectingly.  In  all  the 
six  years  of  his  life,  no  man  had  ever  offered  him  in- 
jury. Fear  had  not  yet  become  associated  with  those 
who  spoke  him  fair,  testers  he  did  not  consider 
friends  because  they  were  not  friends  with  his  bunch. 
Personally  he  did  not  know  anything  about  enemies. 
This  man  was  a  nester  —  but  he  called  him  Buck,  and 
he  talked  very  nice  and  friendly,  and  he  said  he  knew 
where  there  were  some  little  baby  bear  cubs.  The  Kid 
had  never  before  realized  how  much  he  wanted  a  bear 
cub  for  a  pet.  So  do  our  wants  grow  to  meet  our 
opportunities. 

H.  J.  Owens  led  the  way  into  a  shallow  draw  be- 
tween two  low  hills,  glancing  often  behind  him  and 
around  him  until  they  were  shielded  by  the  higher 
ground.  He  was  careful  to  keep  where  the  grass  was 
thickest  and  would  hold  no  hoofprints  to  betray  them, 
but  the  Kid  never  noticed.  He  was  thinking  how  nice 
it  would  be  to  have  a  bear  cub  for  a  pet.  But  it  was 
funny  that  the  Happy  Family  had  never  found  him 
one,  if  there  were  any  in  the  country. 

He  turned  to  put  the  question  direct  to  H.  J.  Owens, 
but  that  gentleman  forestalled  him. 


A   PAWN    IN    THE    GAME     315 

"  You  wait  here  a  minute,  Buck,  while  I  ride  back 
on  this  hill  a  little  ways  to  see  if  those  fellows  are  on 
our  trail,"  he  said,  and  rode  off  before  the  Kid  could 
ask  him  the  question. 

The  Kid  waited  obediently.  He  saw  H.  J.  Owens 
get  off  his  horse  and  go  sneaking  up  to  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  and  take  some  field  glasses  out  of  his  pocket  and 
look  all  around  over  the  prairie  with  them.  The  sight 
tingled  the  Kid's  blood  so  that  he  almost  forgot  about 
the  bear  cub.  It  was  almost  exactly  like  fighting  In- 
juns, like  Uncle  Gee-gee  told  about  when  he  wasn't 
cross. 

In  a  few  minutes  Owens  came  back  to  the  Kid,  and 
they  went  on  slowly,  keeping  always  in  the  low,  grassy 
places  where  there  would  be  no  tracks  left  to  tell  of 
their  passing  that  way.  Behind  them  a  yellow-brown 
cloud  drifted  sullenly  with  the  wind.  ~Now  and  then 
a  black  flake  settled  past  them  to  the  ground.  A  pe- 
culiar, tangy  smell  was  in  the  air  —  the  smell  of  burn- 
ing grass. 

H.  J.  Owens  related  a  long,  full-detailed  account  of 
how  he  had  been  down  in  the  hills  along  the  river,  and 
had  seen  the  old  mother  bear  digging  ants  out  of  a 
sand-hill  for  her  cubs. 

"  I  know  —  that's  jes'  'zactly  the  way  they  do !  " 
the  Kid  interrupted  excitedly.  "  Daddy  Chip  seen  one 


316     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

doing  it  on  the  Musselshell  one  time.  He  told  me 
'bout  it." 

H.  J.  Owens  glanced  sidelong  at  the  Kid's  flushed 
face,  smiled  his  twisted  smile  and  went  on  with  his 
story.  He  had  not  bothered  them,  he  said,  because  he 
did  not  have  any  way  of  carrying  both  cubs,  and  he 
hated  to  kill  them.  He  had  thought  of  Buck,  and  how 
he  would  like  a  pet  cub,  so  he  had  followed  the  bear 
to  her  den  and  had  come  away  to  get  a  sack  to  carry 
them  in,  and  to  tell  Buck  about  it. 

The  Kid  never  once  doubted  that  it  was  so.  When- 
ever any  of  the  Happy  Family  found  anything  in  the 
hills  that  was  nice,  they  always  thought  of  Buck,  and 
they  always  brought  it  to  him.  You  would  be  amazed 
at  the  number  of  rattlesnake  rattles,  and  eagle's  claws, 
and  elk  teeth,  and  things  like  that,  which  the  Kid  pos- 
sessed and  kept  carefully  stowed  away  in  a  closet  kept 
sacred  to  his  uses. 

"  'Course  you'd  'member  I  wanted  a  baby  bear  cub 
for  a  pet,"  he  assented  gravely  and  with  a  certain 
satisfaction.  "  Is  it  a  far  ways  to  that  mother  bear's 
home?" 

"  Why  ? "  H.  J.  Owens  turned  from  staring  at  the 
rolling  smoke  cloud,  and  looked  at  the  Kid  curiously. 
"  Ain't  you  big  enough  to  ride  far  ?  " 

"  'Course  I'm  big  enough !  "     The  Kid's  pride  was 


A   PAWN    IN    THE    GAME     317 

touched.  "  I  can  ride  as  far  as  a  horse  can  travel.  I 
bet  I  can  ride  farther  and  faster  'n  you  can,  you 
pilgrim !  "  He  eyed  the  other  disdainfully.  "  Huh ! 
You  can't  ride.  When  you  trot  you  go  this  way !  " 
The  Kid  kicked  Silver  into  a  trot  and  went  bouncing 
along  with  his  elbows  flapping  loosely  in  imitation  of 
H.  J.  Owens'  ungraceful  riding. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  a  far  ways,"  he  explained  when 
the  other  was  again  riding  alongside,  "  'cause  Doctor 
Dell  would  cry  if  I  didn't  come  back  to  supper.  She 
cried  when  I  was  out  huntin'  the  bunch.  Doctor  Dell 
gets  lonesome  awful  easy."  He  looked  over  his 
shoulder  uneasily.  "  I  guess  I  better  go  back  and  tell 
her  I'm  goin'  to  git  a  baby  bear  cub  for  a  pet,"  he  said, 
and  reined  Silver  around  to  act  upon  the  impulse. 

"  No  —  don't  do  that,  Buck."  H.  J.  Owens  pulled 
his  horse  in  front  of  Silver.  "  It  isn't  far  —  just  a 
little  ways.  And  it  would  be  fun  to  surprise  them  at 
the  ranch.  Gee!  When  they  saw  you  ride  up  with  a 
pet  bear  cub  in  your  arms  — "  H.  J.  Owens  shook  his 
head  as  though  he  could  not  find  words  to  express  the 
surprise  of  the  Kid's  family 

The  Kid  smiled  his  Little  Doctor  smile.  "  I'd  tell 
a  man !  "  he  assented  enthusiastically.  "  I  bet  the 
Countess  would  holler  when  she  seen  it.  She  scares 
awful  easy.  She's  scared  of  a  mice,  even!  Huh! 


318     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

My  kitty  ketched  a  mice  and  she  carried  it  right  in 
her  mouth  and  brought  it  into  the  kitchen  and  let  it 
set  down  on  the  floor  a  minute,  and  it  started  to  run 
away  —  the  mice  did.  And  it  runned  right  up  to  the 
Countess,  and  she  jes'  hollered  and  yelled!  And  she 
got  right  up  and  stood  on  a  chair  and  hollered  for 
Baddy  Chip  to  come  and  ketch  that  mice.  He  didn't 
do  it  though.  Adeline  ketched  it  herself.  And  I  took 
it  away  from  her  and  put  it  in  a  box  for  a  pet.  I 
wasn't  scared." 

"  She'll  be  scared  when  she  sees  the  bear  cub,"  H.  J. 
Owens  declared  absent-mindedly.  "  I  know  you  won't 
be,  though.  If  we  hurry  maybe  we  can  watch  how  he 
digs  ants  for  his  supper.  That's  lots  of  fun,  Buck." 

"  Yes  —  I  'member  it's  fun  to  watch  baby  bear  cubs 
dig  ants,"  the  Kid  assented  earnestly,  and  followed 
willingly  where  H.  J.  Owens  led  the  way. 

That  the  way  was  far  did  not  impress  itself  upon 
the  Kid,  beguiled  with  wonderful  stories  of  how  baby 
bear  cubs  might  be  taught  to  do  tricks.  He  listened 
and  believed,  and  invented  some  very  wonderful  tricks 
that  he  meant  to  teach  his  baby  bear  cub.  Not  until 
the  shadows  began  to  fill  the  gullies  through  which  they 
rode  did  the  Kid  awake  to  the  fact  that  night  was 
coming  close  and  that  they  were  still  traveling  away 
from  home  and  in  a  direction  which  was  strange  to 


A   PAWN   IN    THE    GAME     319 

him.  Never  in  his  life  had  he  been  tricked  by  any- 
one with  unfriendly  intent.  He  did  not  guess  that  he 
was  being  tricked  now.  He  rode  away  into  the  wild 
places  in  search  of  a  baby  bear  cub  for  a  pet 


CHAPTER  XXV 

"  LITTLE    BLACK    SHACK?S   ALL    BUKtf  T    UP  !  " 

IT  is  a  penitentiary  offence  for  anyone  to  set  fire  to 
prairie  grass  or  timber ;  and  if  you  know  the  havoc 
which  one  blazing  match  may  work  upon  dry  grass- 
land when  the  wind  is  blowing  free,  you  will  not  wonder 
at  the  penalty  for  lighting  that  match  with  deliberate 
intent  to  set  the  prairie  afire. 

Within  five  minutes  after  H.  J.  Owens  slipped  the  bit 
of  mirror  back  into  his  pocket  after  flashing  a  signal 
that  the  Kid  was  riding  alone  upon  the  trail,  a  line 
of  fire  several  rods  long  was  creeping  up  out  of  a 
grassy  hollow  to  the  hilltop  beyond,  whence  it  would 
go  racing  away  to  the  east  and  the  north,  growing 
bigger  and  harder  to  fight  with  every  grass  tuft  it  fed 
upon. 

The  Happy  Family  were  working  hard  that  day  upon 
the  system  of  irrigation  by  which  they  meant  to  reclaim 
and  make  really  valuable  their  desert  claims.  They 
happened  to  be,  at  the  time  when  the  fire  was  started, 
six  or  seven  miles  away,  wrangling  over  the  best  means 
of  getting  their  main  ditch  around  a  certain  coulee 


"SHACK'S    ALL    BURNT    UP!"     321 

without  building  a  lot  of  expensive  flume.  A  surveyor 
would  have  been  a  blessing,  at  this  point  in  the  under- 
taking; but  a  surveyor  charged  good  money  for  his 
services,  and  the  Happy  Family  were  trying  to  be  very 
economical  with  money ;  with  time,  and  effort,  and  with 
words  they  were  not  so  frugal. 

The  fire  had  been  burning  for  an  hour  and  had 
spread  so  alarmingly  before  the  gusty  breeze  that  it 
threatened  several  claim-shacks  before  they  noticed  the 
telltale,  brownish  tint  to  the  sunlight  and  smelled  other 
smoke  than  the  smoke  of  the  word-battle  then  waging 
fiercely  among  them.  They  dropped  stakes,  flags  and 
ditch-level  and  ran  to  where  their  horses  waited  sleepily 
the  pleasure  of  their  masters. 

They  reached  the  level  of  the  benchland  to  see  dis- 
aster sweeping  down  upon  them  like  a  race-horse.  They 
did  not  stop  then  to  wonder  how  the  fire  had  started, 
or  why  it  had  gained  such  headway.  They  raced  their 
horses  after  sacks,  and  after  the  wagon  and  team  and 
water  barrels  with  which  to  fight  the  flames.  For  it 
was  not  the  claim-shacks  in  its  path  which  alone  were 
threatened.  The  grass  that  was  burning  meant  a  great 
deal  to  the  stock,  and  therefore  to  the  general  welfare 
of  every  settler  upon  that  bench,  be  he  native  or  new- 
comer. 

Florence  Grace  Hallman  had,  upon  one  of  her  pe- 


322     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

riodical  visits  among  her  "  clients,"  warned  them  of  the 
danger  of  prairie  fires  and  urged  them  to  plow  and 
burn  guards  around  all  their  buildings.  A  few  of  the 
settlers  had  done  so,  and  were  comparatively  safe  in 
the  face  of  that  leaping,  red  line.  But  there  were 
some  who  had  delayed  —  and  these  must  fight  now  if 
they  would  escape. 

The  Happy  Family,  to  a  man,  had  delayed;  rather 
they  had  not  considered  that  there  was  any  immediate 
danger  from  fire ;  it  was  too  early  in  the  season  for  the 
grass  to  be  tindery  dry,  as  it  would  become  a  month  or 
six  weeks  later.  They  were  wholly  unprepared  for 
the  catastrophe,  so  far  as  any  expectation  of  it  went. 
But  for  all  that  they  knew  exactly  what  to  do  and  how 
to  go  about  doing  it,  and  they  did  not  waste  a  single 
minute  in  meeting  the  emergency. 

While  the  Kid  was  riding  with  H.  J.  Owens  into  the 
hills,  his  friends,  the  bunch,  were  riding  furiously  in  the 
opposite  direction.  And  that  was  exactly  what  had 
been  planned  beforehand.  There  was  an  absolute  cer- 
tainty in  the  minds  of  those  who  planned  that  it  would 
be  so.  Florence  Grace  Hallm-an,  for  instance,  knew 
just  what  would  furnish  complete  occupation  for  the 
minds  and  the  hands  of  the  Happy  Family  and  of  every 
other  man  in  that  neighborhood,  that  afternoon.  Per- 
haps a  claim-shack  or  two  would  go  up  in  smoke,  and 


"SHACK'S    ALL   BURNT   UP!"     323 

some  grass  would  burn.  But  when  one  has  a  stubborn 
disposition  and  is  fighting  for  prestige  and  revenge  and 
the  success  of  one's  business,  a  shack  or  two  and  a  few 
acres  of  prairie  grass  do  not  count  for  very  much. 

For  the  rest  of  that  afternoon  the  boys  of  the  Flying 
U  fought  side  by  side  with  hated  nesters  and  told  the 
inexperienced  how  best  to  fight.  For  the  rest  of  that 
afternoon  no  one  remembered  the  Kid,  or  wondered 
why  H.  J.  Owens  was  not  there  in  the  grimy  line  of 
fire-fighters  who  slapped  doggedly  at  the  leaping  flames 
with  sacks  kept  wet  from  the  barrels  of  water  hauled 
here  and  there  as  they  were  needed.  No  one  had  time 
to  call  the  roll  and  see  who  was  missing  among  the 
settlers.  No  one  dreamed  that  this  mysterious  fire  that 
had  crept  up  out  of  a  coulee  and  spread  a  black,  smok- 
ing blanket  over  the  hills  where  it  passed,  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  diversion  while  a  greater  crime 
was  being  committed  behind  their  backs. 

In  spite  of  them  the  fire,  beaten  out  of  existence  at 
one  point,  gained  unexpected  fury  elsewhere  and  raced 
on.  In  spite  of  them  women  and  children  were  in  ac- 
tual danger  of  being  burned  to  death,  and  rushed  weep- 
ing from  flimsy  shelter  to  find  safety  in  the  nearest 
barren  coulee.  The  sick  lady  whom  the  Little  Doctor 
had  been  tending  was  carried  out  on  her  bed  and  laid 
upon  the  blackened  prairie,  hysterical  from  the  fright 


324     FLYING   U'S   LAST    STAND 

she  had  received.  The  shack  she  had  lately  occupied 
smoked  while  the  tarred  paper  on  the  roof  crisped  and 
curled;  and  then  the  whole  structure  burst  into  flame 
and  sent  blazing  bits  of  paper  and  boards  to  spread 
the  fire  faster. 

Fire  guards  which  the  inexperienced  settlers  thought 
safe  were  jumped  without  any  perceptible  check  upon 
the  flames.  The  wind  was  just  right  for  the  fanning 
of  the  fire.  It  shifted  now  and  then  erratically  and 
sent  the  yellow  line  leaping  in  new  directions. 
Florence  Grace  Hallman  was  in  Dry  Lake  that  day,  and 
she  did  not  hear  until  after  dark  how  completely  her 
little  diversion  had  been  a  success ;  how  more  than  half 
of  her  colony  had  been  left  homeless  and  hungry  upon 
the  charred  prairie.  Florence  Grace  Hallman  would 
not  have  relished  her  supper,  I  fear,  had  the  news 
reached  her  earlier  in  the  evening. 

At  Antelope  Coulee  the  Happy  Family  and  such  of 
the  settlers  as  they  could  muster  hastily  for  the  fight, 
made  a  desperate  stand  against  the  common  enemy. 
Flying  U  Coulee  was  safe,  thanks  to  the  permanent 
fire-guards  which  the  Old  Man  maintained  year  after 
year  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  there  were  the  claims 
of  the  Happy  Family  and  all  the  grassland  east  of 
there  which  must  be  saved. 

Men  drove  their  work  horses  at  a  gallop  after  plows, 


"SHACK'S   ALL   BURNT   UP!"     325 

and  when  they  had  brought  them  they  lashed  the  horses 
into  a  trot  while  they  plowed  crooked  furrows  in  the 
sun-baked  prairie  sod,  just  over  the  eastern  rim  of 
Antelope  Coulee.  The  Happy  Family  knelt  here  and 
there  along  the  fresh-turned  sod,  and  started  a  line  of 
fire  that  must  beat  up  against  the  wind  until  it  met  the 
flames  rushing  before  it.  Backfiring  is  always  a  more 
or  less  ticklish  proceeding,  and  they  would  not  trust 
the  work  to  strangers. 

Every  man  of  them  took  a  certain  stretch  of  furrow 
to  watch,  and  ran  backward  and  forward  with  blackened, 
frayed  sacks  to  beat  out  the  wayward  flames  that  licked 
treacherously  through  the  smallest  break  in  the  line  of 
fresh  soil.  They  knew  too  well  the  danger  of  those 
little,  licking  flame  tongues;  not  one  was  left  to  live 
and  grow  and  race  leaping  away  through  the  grass. 

They  worked  —  heavens,  how  they  worked !  —  and 
they  stopped  the  fire  there  on  the  rim  of  Antelope 
Coulee.  Florence  Grace  Hallman  would  have  been  sick 
with  fury,  had  she  seen  that  dogged  line  of  fighters, 
and  the  ragged  hem  of  charred  black  ashes  against  the 
yellow-brown,  which  showed  how  well  those  men  whom 
she  hated  had  fought. 

So  the  fire  was  stopped  well  outside  the  fence  which 
marked  the  boundary  of  the  Happy  Family's  claims. 
All  west  of  there  and  far  to  the  north  the  hills  and  the 


326     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

coulees  lay  black  as  far  as  one  could  see  —  which  was 
to  the  rim  of  the  hills  which  bordered  Dry  Lake  valley 
on  the  east.  Here  and  there  a  claim-shack  stood  for- 
lorn amid  the  blackness.  Here  and  there  a  heap  of 
embers  still  smoked  and  sent  forth  an  occasional  spit- 
ting of  sparks  when  a  gust  fanned  the  heap.  Men, 
women  and  children  stood  about  blankly  or  wandered 
disconsolately  here  and  there,  coughing  in  the  acrid 
clouds  of  warm  grass  cinders  kicked  up  by  their  own 
lagging  feet. 

No  one  missed  the  Kid.  No  one  dreamed  that  he 
was  lost  again.  Chip  was  with  the  Happy  Family 
and  did  not  know  that  the  Kid  had  left  the  ranch  that 
afternoon.  The  Little  Doctor  had  taken  it  for  granted 
that  he  had  gone  with  his  daddy,  as  he  so  frequently 
did ;  and  with  his  daddy  and  the  whole  Happy  Family 
to  look  after  him,  she  never  once  doubted  that  he  was 
perfectly  safe,  even  among  the  fire-fighters.  She  sup- 
posed he  would  be  up  on  the  seat  beside  Patsy,  probably, 
proudly  riding  on  the  wagon  that  hauled  the  water 
barrels. 

The  Little  Doctor  had  troubles  of  her  own  to  occupy 
her  mind.  She  had  ridden  hurriedly  up  the  hill  and 
straight  to  the  shack  of  the  sick  woman,  when  first  she 
discovered  that  the  prairie  was  afire.  And  she  had 
found  the  sick  woman  lying  on  a  makeshift  bed  on  the 


"SHACK'S    ALL    BURNT    UP!"     327 

smoking,  black  area  that  was  pathetically  safe  now 
from  fire  because  there  was  nothing  more  to  burn. 

"  Little  black  shack's  all  burnt  up !  Everything's 
black  now.  Black  hills,  black  hollows,  black  future, 
black  world,  black  hearts  —  everything  matches  — 
everything's  black.  Sky's  black,  I'm  black  —  you're 
black  —  little  black  shack  won't  have  to  stand  all  alonS 
any  more  —  little  black  shack's  just  black  ashes  — 
little  black  shack's  all  burnt  up ! "  And  then  the 
woman  laughed  shrilly,  with  that  terrible,  meaningless 
laughter  of  hysteria. 

She  was  a  pretty  woman,  and  young.  Her  hair  was 
that  bright  shade  of  red  that  goes  with  a  skin  like  thin, 
rose-tinted  ivory.  Her  eyes  were  big  and  so  dark  a 
blue  that  they  sometimes  looked  black,  and  her  mouth 
was  sweet  and  had  a  tired  droop  to  match  the  mute 
pathos  of  her  eyes.  Her  husband  was  a  coarse  lout  of 
a  man  who  seldom  spoke  to  her  when  they  were  to- 
gether. The  Little  Doctor  had  felt  that  all  the  tragedy 
of  womanhood  and  poverty  and  loneliness  was  synthe- 
sized in  this  woman  with  the  unusual  hair  and  skin 
and  eyes  and  expression.  She  had  been  coming  every 
day  to  see  her ;  the  woman  was  rather  seriously  ill,  and 
needed  better  care  than  she  could  get  out  there  on  the 
bald  prairie,  even  with  the  Little  Doctor  to  watch  over 
her.  If  she  died,  her  face  would  haunt  the  Little 


328     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Doctor  always.  Even  if  she  did  not  die  she  would 
remain  a  vivid  memory.  Just  now  even  the  Little 
Doctor's  mother  instinct  was  submerged  under  her  pro- 
fessional instincts  and  her  woman  sympathy.  She  did 
not  stop  to  wonder  whether  she  was  perfectly  sure  that 
the  Kid  was  with  Chip.  She  took  it  for  granted  and 
dismissed  the  Kid  from  her  mind,  and  worked  to  save 
the  woman. 

Yes,  the  little  diversion  of  a  prairie  fire  that  would 
call  all  hands  to  the  westward  so  that  the  Kid  might  be 
lured  away  in  another  direction  without  the  mishap  of 
being  seen,  proved  a  startling  success.  As  a  diversion 
it  could  scarcely  be  improved  upon  —  unless  Florence 
Grace  Hallman  had  ordered  a  wholesale  massacre  or 
something  like  that. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

ROSEMARY   ALLEN    DOES    A    SMALL    SUM   IK   ADDITION 

MISS  ROSEMARY  ALLEN,  having  wielded  a 
wet  gunny  sack  until  her  eyes  were  red  and 
smarting  and  her  lungs  choked  with  cinders  and  her 
arms  so  tired  she  could  scarcely  lift  them,  was  permitted 
by  fate  to  be  almost  the  first  person  who  discovered 
that  her  quarter  of  the  four-room  shack  built  upon  the 
four  contiguous  corners  of  four  claims,  was  afire  in 
the  very  middle  of  its  roof.  Miss  Rosemary  Allen 
stood  still  and  watched  it  burn,  and  was  a  trifle  sur- 
prised because  she  felt  so  little  regret. 

Other  shacks  had  caught  fire  and  burned  hotly,  and 
she  had  wept  with  sympathy  for  the  owners.  But  she 
did  not  weep  when  her  own  shack  began  to  crackle  and 
show  yellow,  licking  tongues  of  flame.  Those  three  old 
cats  —  I  am  using  her  own  term,  which  was  spiteful  — 
would  probably  give  up  now  and  go  back  where  they 
belonged.  She  hoped  so.  And  for  herself  — 

"  By  gracious,  Fm  glad  to  see  that  one  go,  anyhow !  " 
Andy  Green  paused  long  enough  in  his  headlong  gallop 
to  shout  to  her.  "  I  was  going  to  sneak  up  and  touch 


330     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

it  off  myself,  if  it  wouldn't  start  any  other  way.  Now 
you  and  me'll  get  down  to  cases,  girl,  and  have  a 
settlement.  And  say !  "  He  had  started  on,  but  he 
pulled  up  again.  "  The  Little  Doctor's  back  here, 
somewhere.  You  go  home  with  her  when  she  goes,  and 
stay  till  I  come  and  get  you." 

"  I  like  your  nerve !  "  Eosemary  retorted  ambigu- 
ously. 

"  Sure  —  folks  generally  do.  I'll  tell  her  to  stop  for 
you.  You  know  she'll  be  glad  enough  to  have  you  — 
and  so  will  the  Kid." 

"  Where  is  Buck  ? "  Eosemary  was  the  first  person 
who  asked  that  question.  "  I  saw  him  ride  up  on  the 
bench  just  before  the  fire  started.  I  was  watching  for 
him,  through  the  glasses  — " 

"  Dunno  —  haven't  seen  him.  With  his  mother,  I 
guess."  Andy  rode  on  to  find  Patsy  and  send  him 
back  down  the  line  with  the  water  wagon.  He  did  not 
think  anything  more  about  the  Kid,  though  he  thought 
a  good  deal  about  Miss  Allen. 

~Now  that  her  shack  was  burned,  she  would  be  easier 
to  persuade  into  giving  up  that  practically  worthless 
eighty.  That  was  what  filled  the  mind  of  Andy  Green 
to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else  except  the  fire.  He 
was  in  a  hurry  to  deliver  his  message  to  Patsy,  so  that 
he  could  hunt  up  the  Little  Doctor  and  bespeak  her 


A    SUM    IN   ADDITION        331 

hospitality  for  the  girl  he  meant  to  marry  just  as  soon 
as  he  could  persuade  her  to  stand  with  him  before  a 
preacher. 

He  found  the  Little  Doctor  still  fighting  a  dogged 
battle  with  death  for  the  life  of  the  woman  who  laughed 
wildly  because  her  home  was  a  heap  of  smoking  embers. 
The  Little  Doctor  told  him  to  send  Eosemary  Allen  on 
down  to  the  ranch,  or  take  her  himself,  and  to  tell  the 
Countess  to  send  up  her  biggest  medicine  case  im- 
mediately. She  could  not  leave,  she  said,  for  some 
time  yet.  She  might  have  to  stay  all  night  —  or  she 
would  if  there  was  any  place  to  stay.  She  was  half 
decided,  she  said,  to  have  someone  take  the  woman  in  to 
Dry  Lake  right  away,  and  up  to  the  hospital  in  Great 
Falls.  She  supposed  she  would  have  to  go  along. 
Would  Andy  tell  J.  G.  to  send  up  some  money? 
Clothes  didn't  matter  —  she  would  go  the  way  she  was ; 
there  were  plenty  of  clothes  in  the  stores,  she  declared. 
And  would  Andy  rustle  a  team,  right  away,  so  they 
could  start  ?  If  they  went  at  all  they  ought  to  catch 
the  evening  train.  The  Little  Doctor  was  making  her 
decisions  and  her  plans  while  she  talked,  as  is  the  way 
with  those  strong  natures  who  can  act  promptly  and 
surely  in  the  face  of  an  emergency. 

By  the  time  she  had  thought  of  having  a  team  come 
right  away,  she  had  decided  that  she  would  not  wait  for 


332     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

her  medicine-case  or  for  money.  She  could  get  all  the 
money  she  needed  in  Dry  Lake;  and  she  had  her  little 
emergency  case  with  her.  Since  she  was  going  to  take 
the  woman  to  a  hospital,  she  said,  there  was  no  great 
need  of  more  than  she  had  with  her.  <  She  was  a  thought- 
ful Little  Doctor.  At  the  last  minute  she  detained 
Andy  long  enough  to  urge  him  to  see  that  Miss  Allen 
helped  herself  to  clothes  or  anything  she  needed;  and 
to  send  a  goodbye  message  to  Chip  —  in  case  he  did 
not  show  up  before  she  left  —  and  a  kiss  to  her  man- 
child. 

Andy  was  lucky.  He  met  a  man  driving  a  good  team 
and  spring  wagon,  with  a  barrel  of  water  in  the  back. 
He  promptly  dismounted  and  helped  the  man  unload 
the  water-barrel  where  it  was,  and  sent  him  bumping 
swiftly  over  the  burned  sod  to  where  the  Little  Doctor 
waited.  So  Fate  was  kinder  to  the  Little  Doctor  than 
were  those  who  would  wring  anew  the  mother  heart  of 
her  that  their  own  petty  schemes  might  succeed.  She 
went  away  with  the  sick  woman  laughing  crazily  be- 
cause all  the  little  black  shacks  were  burned  and  now 
everything  was  black  so  everything  matched  nicely  — 
nicely,  thank  you.  She  was  terribly  worried  over  the 
woman's  condition,  and  she  gave  herself  wholly  to  her 
professional  zeal  and  never  dreamed  that  her  man- 
child  was  at  that  moment  riding  deeper  and  deeper  into 


A    SUM    IN   ADDITION        333 

the  Badlands  with  a  tricky  devil  of  a  man,  looking  for  a 
baby  bear  cub  for  a  pet. 

Neither  did  Chip  dream  it,  nor  any  of  the  Happy 
Family,  nor  even  Miss  Rosemary  Allen,  until  they  rode 
down  into  Flying  U  Coulee  at  supper-time  and  were  met 
squarely  by  the  fact  that  the  Kid  was  not  there.  The 
Old  Man  threw  the  bomb  that  exploded  tragedy  in  the 
midst  of  the  little  group.  He  heard  that  "  Dell "  had 
gone  to  take  a  sick  woman  to  the  hospital  in  Great  Falls, 
and  would  not  be  back  for  a  day  or  so,  probably. 

"What'd  she  do  with  the  Kid?"  he  demanded. 
"Take  him  with  her?" 

Chip  stared  blankly  at  him,  and  turned  his  eyes 
finally  to  Andy's  face.  Andy  had  not  mentioned  the 
Kid  to  him. 

"  He  wasn't  with  her,"  Andy  replied  to  the  look. 
"  She  sent  him  a  kiss  and  word  that  he  was  to  take  care 
of  Miss  Allen.  He  must  be  somewhere  around  here." 
"  Well,  he  ain't.  I  was  looking  fer  him  myself,"  put 
in  the  Countess  sharply.  "  Somebody  shut  the  cat  up 
in  the  flour  chest  and  I  didn't  study  much  on  who  it 
was  done  it !  If  I'd  a  got  my  hands  on  'im  — " 

"  I  saw  him  ride  up  on  the  hill  trail  just  before  the 
fire  started,"  volunteered  Eosemary  Allen.  "  I  had  my 
opera  glasses  and  was  looking  for  him,  because  I  like 
to  meet  him  and  hear  him  talk.  He  said  yesterday  that 


334     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

he  was  coming  to  see  me  today.  And  he  rode  up  on  the 
hill  in  sight  of  my  claim.  I  saw  him."  She  stopped 
and  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  her  eyebrows 
pinched  together  and  her  lips  pursed. 

"  Listen,"  she  went  on  hastily.  "  Maybe  it  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  Buck  —  but  I  saw  something  else  that 
was  very  puzzling.  I  was  going  to  investigate,  but  the 
fire  broke  out  immediately  and  put  everything  else  out 
of  my  mind.  A  man  was  up  on  that  sharp-pointed 
knoll  off  east  of  the  trail  where  it  leaves  this  coulee,  and 
he  had  field  glasses  and  was  looking  for  something  over 
this  way.  I  thought  he  was  watching  the  trail.  I  just 
caught  him  with  the  glasses  by  accident  as  I  swung 
them  over  the  edge  of  the  benchland  to  get  the  trail 
focussed.  He  was  watching  something  —  because  I 
kept  turning  the  glasses  on  him  to  see  what  he  was 
doing. 

"  Then  Buck  came  into  sight,  and  I  started  to  ride 
out  and  meet  him.  I  hate  to  leave  the  little  mite  rid- 
ing alone  anywhere  —  I'm  always  afraid  something  may 
happen.  But  before  I  got  on  my  horse  I  took  another 
look  at  this  man  on  the  hill.  He  had  a  mirror  or  some- 
thing bright  in  his  hands.  I  saw  it  flash,  just  exactly 
as  though  he  was  signalling  to  someone  —  over  that 
way."  She  pointed  to  the  west.  "  He  kept  looking 
that  way,  and  then  back  this  way ;  and  he  covered  up  the 


A    SUM    IN    ADDITION         335 

piece  of  mirror  with  his  hand  and  then  took  it  off  and 
let  it  shine  a  minute,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  I  know 
he  was  making  signals. 

"  I  got  my  horse  and  started  to  meet  little  Buck.  He 
was  coming  along  the  trail  and  rode  into  a  little  hollow 
out  of  sight.  I  kept  looking  and  looking  toward  Dry 
Lake  —  because  the  man  looked  that  way,  I  guess. 
And  in  a  few  minutes  I  saw  the  smoke  of  the  fire  — " 

"  Who  was  that  man  ?  "  Andy  took  a  step  toward 
her,  his  eyes  hard  and  bright  in  their  inflamed  lids. 

"  The  man  ?  That  Mr.  Owens  who  jumped  your 
south  eighty." 

"  Good  Lord,  what  fools !  "  He  brushed  past  her 
without  a  look  or  another  word,  so  intent  was  he  upon 
this  fresh  disaster.  "  I'm  going  after  the  boys,  Chip. 
You  better  come  along  and  see  if  you  can  pick  up  the 
Kid's  trail  where  he  left  the  road.  It's  too  bad  Flor- 
ence Grace  Hallman  ain't  a  man!  I'd  know  better 
what  to  do  if  she  was." 

"  Oh,  do  you  think  —  ?  "  Miss  Rosemary  looked  at 
him  wide-eyed. 

"  Doggone  it,  if  she's  tried  any  of  her  schemes  with 
fire  and  —  why,  doggone  it,  being  a  woman  ain't  going 
to  help  her  none !  "  The  Old  Man,  also,  seemed  to 
grasp  the  meaning  of  it  almost  as  quickly  as  had  Andy. 
"  Chip,  you  have  Ole  hitch  up  the  team.  I'm  going 


336    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

to  town  myself,  by  thunder,  and  see  if  she's  going  to 
play  any  of  her  tricks  on  this  outfit  and  git  away  with 
it!  Burnt  out  half  her  doggoned  colony  tryin'  to  git 
a  whack  at  you  boys !  Where's  my  shoes  ?  Doggone  it, 
what  yuh  all  standin'  round  with  your  jaws  hangin' 
down  for  ?  We'll  see  about  this  fire-sett  in'  and  this  — 
where's  them  shoes  ?  " 

The  Countess  found  his  shoes,  and  his  hat,  and  his 
second-best  coat  and  his  driving  gloves  which  he  had 
not  worn  for  more  months  than  anyone  cared  to  reckon. 
Miss  Rosemary  Allen  did  what  she  could  to  help,  and 
wondered  at  the  dominant  note  struck  by  this  bald  old 
man  from  the  moment  when  he  rose  stiffly  from  his  big 
chair  and  took  the  initiative  so  long  left  to  others. 

While  the  team  was  being  made  ready  the  Old  Man 
limped  here  and  there,  collecting  things  he  did  not 
need  and  trying  to  remember  what  he  must  have,  and 
keeping  the  Countess  moving  at  a  flurried  trot.  Chip 
and  Andy  were  not  yet  up  the  bluff  when  the  Old  Man 
climbed  painfully  into  the  covered  buggy,  took  the  lines 
and  the  whip  and  cut  a  circle  with  the  wheels  on  the 
hard-packed  earth  as  clean  and  as  small  as  Chip  him- 
self could  have  done,  and  went  whirling  through  the 
big  gate  and  across  the  creek  and  up  the  long  slope 
beyond.  He  shouted  to  the  boys  and  they  rode  slowly 
until  he  overtook  them  —  though  their  nerves  were  all 


A    SUM    IN    ADDITION         337 

on  edge  and  haste  seemed  to  them  the  most  important 
thing  in  the  world.  But  habit  is  strong  —  it  was  their 
Old  Man  who  called  to  them  to  wait. 

"  You  boys  want  to  git  out  after  that  Owens/'  he 
shouted  when  he  passed  them.  "  If  they've  got  the 
Kid,  killing's  too  good  for  ?em !  "  The  brown  team 
went  trotting  up  the  grade  with  back  straightened  to 
the  pull  of  the  lurching  buggy,  and  nostrils  flaring  wide 
with  excitement.  The  Old  Man  leaned  sidewise  and 
called  back  to  the  two  loping  after  him  in  the  obscuring 
dust-cloud  he  left  behind. 

"  I'll  have  that  woman  arrested  on  suspicion  uh  set- 
ting prairie  fires !  "  he  called.  "  I'll  git  Blake  after 
her.  You  git  that  Owens  if  you  have  to  haze  him  to 
hell  and  back!  Yuh  don't  want  to  worry  about  the 
Kid,  Chip  —  they  ain't  goin'  to  hurt  him.  All  they 
want  is  to  keep  you  boys  huntin'  high  and  low  and 
combin'  the  breaks  to  find  'im.  I  see  their  scheme,  all 
right." 


CHAPTEE  XXVII 

"  IT'S    AWFUL    EASY    TO    GET    LOST  " 

THE  Kid  wriggled  uncomfortably  in  the  saddle 
and  glanced  at  the  narrow-browed  face  of  H.  J. 
Owens,  who  was  looking  this  way  and  that  at  the  en- 
folding hills  and  scowling  abstractedly.  The  Kid  was 
only  six,  but  he  was  fairly  good  at  reading  moods  and 
glances,  having  lived  all  his  life  amongst  grown-ups. 

"  It's  a  pretty  far  ways  to  them  baby  bear  cubs,"  he 
remarked.  "  I  bet  you're  lost,  old-timer.  It's  awful 
easy  to  get  lost.  I  bet  you  don't  know  where  that 
mother-bear  lives." 

"  You  shut  up !  "  snarled  H.  J.  Owens.  The  Kid 
had  hit  uncomfortably  close  to  the  truth. 

"  You  shut  up  your  own  self,  you  darned  pilgrim." 
The  Kid  flung  back  instantly.  That  was  the  way  he 
learned  to  say  rude  things ;  they  were  said  to  him  and  he 
remembered  and  gave  them  back  in  full  measure. 

"  Say,  I'll  slap  you  if  you  call  me  that  again."  H.  J. 
Owens,  because  he  did  not  relish  the  task  he  had  un- 
dertaken, and  because  he  had  lost  his  bearings  here  in 


"IT'S    EASY   TO    GET    LOST'      339 

the  confusion  of  hills  and  hollows  and  deep  gullies, 
was  in  a  very  bad  humor. 

"  You  darn  pilgrim,  you  dassent  slap  me.  If  you  do 
the  bunch'll  fix  you,  all  right.  I  guess  they'd  just  about 
kill  you.  Daddy  Chip  would  just  knock  the  stuffin' 
outa  you."  He  considered  something  very  briefly,  and 
then  tilted  his  small  chin  so  that  he  looked  more  than 
ever  like  the  Little  Doctor.  "  I  bet  you  was  just  lying 
all  the  time,"  he  accused.  "  I  bet  there  ain't  any  baby 
bear  cubs." 

H.  J.  Owens  laughed  disagreeably,  but  he  did  not 
say  whether  or  not  the  Kid  was  right  in  his  conjecture. 
The  Kid  pinched  his  lips  together  and  winked  very  fast 
for  a  minute.  Never,  never  in  all  the  six  years  of  his 
life  had  anyone  played  him  so  shabby  a  trick.  He 
knew  what  the  laugh  meant ;  it  meant  that  this  man  had 
lied  to  him  and  led  him  away  down  here  in  the  hills 
where  he  had  promised  his  Doctor  Dell,  cross-his-heart, 
that  he  would  never  go  again.  He  eyed  the  man  resent- 
fully. 

"  What  made  you  lie  about  them  baby  bear  cubs  ? " 
he  demanded.  "  I  didn't  want  to  come  such  a  far 
ways." 

"  You  keep  quiet.  I've  heard  about  enough  from 
you,  young  man.  A  little  more  of  that  and  you'll  get 
something  you  ain't  looking  for." 


340    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

"  I'm  a  going  home!  "  The  Kid  pulled  Silver  half 
around  in  the  grassy  gulch  they  were  following.  "  And 
Fin  going  to  tell  the  bunch  what  you  said.  I  bet  the 
bunch'll  make  you  hard  to  ketch,  you  —  you  son-a- 
gun!" 

"  Here !  You  come  back  here,  young  man !  "  H. 
J.  Owens  reached  over  and  caught  Silver's  bridle. 
"  You  don't  go  home  till  I  let  you  go ;  see  ?  You're 
going  right  along  with  me,  if  anybody  should  ask  you. 
And  you  ain't  going  to  talk  like  that  either.  Now 
mind !  "  He  turned  his  pale  blue  eyes  threateningly 
upon  the  Kid.  "  Not  another  word  out  of  you  if  you 
don't  want  a  good  thrashing.  You  come  along  and  be- 
have yourself  or  I'll  cut  your  ears  off." 

The  Kid^s  eyes  blazed  with  anger.  He  did  not  flinch 
while  he  glared  back  at  the  man,  and  he  did  not  seem 
to  care,  just  at  that  moment,  whether  he  lost  his  ears  or 
kept  them.  "  You  let  go  my  horse ! "  he  gritted. 
"  You  wait.  The  bunch'll  fix  you,  and  fix  you  right. 
You  wait!" 

H.  J.  Owens  hesitated,  tempted  to  lay  violent  hands 
upon  the  small  rebel.  But  he  did  not.  He  led  Silver 
a  rod  or  two,  found  it  awkward,  since  the  way  was 
rough  and  he  was  not  much  of  a  horseman,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  let  the  rein  drop  from  his  fingers. 

"You  come  on,  Buck,  and  be  a  good  boy  —  and 


"IT'S    EASY    TO    GET    LOST'      341 

maybe  we'll  find  them  cubs  yet,"  he  conciliated. 
"  You'd  die  a-laughing  at  the  way  they  set  up  and 
scratch  their  ears  when  a  big,  black  ant  bites  'em,  Buck. 
I'll  show  you  in  a  little  while.  And  there's  a  funny 
camp  down  here,  too,  where  we  can  get  some  supper." 

The  Kid  made  no  reply,  but  he  rode  along  docilely 
beside  H.  J.  Owens  and  listened  to  the  new  story  he 
told  of  the  bears.  That  is,  he  appeared  to  be  listening ; 
in  reality  he  was  struggling  to  solve  the  biggest  probleni 
he  had  ever  known  —  the  problem  of  danger  and  of 
treachery.  Poor  little  tad,  he  did  not  even  know  the 
names  of  his  troubles.  He  only  knew  that  this  man  had 
told  him  a  lie  about  those  baby  bear  cubs,  and  had 
brought  him  away  down  here  where  he  had  been  lost, 
and  that  it  was  getting  dark  and  he  wanted  to  go  home 
and  the  man  was  mean  and  would  not  let  him  go.  He 
did  not  understand  why  the  man  should  be  so  mean 
—  but  the  man  was  mean  to  him,  and  he  did  not  in- 
tend to  "  stand  for  it."  He  wanted  to  go  home.  And 
when  the  Kid  really  wanted  to  do  a  certain  thing,  he 
nearly  always  did  it,  as  you  may  have  observed. 

H.  J.  Owens  would  not  let  him  go  home;  therefore 
the  Kid  meant  to  go  anyway.  Only  he  would  have  to 
sneak  off,  or  run  off,  or  something,  and  hide  where  the 
man  could  not  find  him,  and  then  go  home  to  his  Doctor 
Dell  and  Daddy  Chip,  and  tell  them  how  mean  this 


342     FLYING   ITS    LAST    STAND 

pilgrim  had  been  to  him.  And  he  would  tell  the  bunch. 
The  bunch  would  fix  him  all  right!  The  thought 
cheered  the  Kid  so  that  he  smiled  and  made  the  man 
think  he  was  listening  to  his  darned  old  bear  story  that 
was  just  a  big  lie.  Think  he  would  listen  to  any  story 
that  pilgrim  could  tell  ?  Huh ! 

The  gulches  were  growing  dusky  now.  The  Kid 
was  tired,  and  he  was  hungry  and  could  hardly  keep 
from  crying,  he  was  so  miserable.  But  he  was  the  son 
of  his  father  —  he  was  Chip's  kid;  it  would  take  a 
great  deal  more  misery  and  unkindness  to  make  him 
cry  before  this  pilgrim  who  had  been  so  mean  to  him. 
He  rode  along  without  saying  a  word.  H.  J.  Owens 
did  not  say  anything,  either.  He  kept  scanning  each 
jagged  peak  and  each  gloomy  canyon  as  they  passed, 
and  he  seemed  uneasy  about  something.  The  Kid 
knew  what  it  was,  all  right ;  H.  J.  Owens  was  lost. 

They  came  to  a  wide,  flat-bottomed  coulee  with  high- 
ragged  bluffs  shutting  it  in  upon  every  side.  The  Kid 
dimly  remembered  that  coulee,  because  that  was  where 
Andy  got  down  to  tighten  the  cinch  on  Miss  Allen's 
horse,  and  looked  up  at  her  the  way  Daddy  Chip  looked 
at  Doctor  Dell  sometimes,  and  made  a  kiss  with  his  lips 
—  and  got  called  down  for  it,  too.  The  Kid  remem- 
bered. 

He  looked  at  the  man,  shut  his  mouth  tight  and 


"IT'S    EASY    TO    GET    LOST'      343 

wheeled  Silver  suddenly  to  the  left.  He  leaned  for- 
ward as  he  had  always  seen  the  Happy  Family  do  when 
they  started  a  race,  and  struck  Silver  smartly  down  the 
rump  with  the  braided  romal  on  his  bridle-reins.  H. 
J.  Owens  was  taken  off  his  guard  and  did  nothing  but 
stare  open-mouthed  until  the  Kid  was  well  under  way ; 
then  he  shouted  and  galloped  after  him,  up  the  little 
flat. 

He  might  as  well  have  saved  his  horse's  wind  and 
his  own  energy.  He  was  no  match  for  little  Buck  Ben- 
nett, who  had  the  whole  Flying  U  outfit  to  teach  him 
how  to  ride,  and  the  spirit  of  his  Daddy  Chip  and  the 
Little  Doctor  combined  to  give  him  grit  and  initiative. 
H.  J.  Owens  pounded  along  to  the  head  of  the  coulee, 
where  he  had  seen  the  Kid  galloping  dimly  in  the 
dusk.  He  turned  up  into  the  canyon  that  sloped  in- 
vitingly up  from  the  level,  and  went  on  at  the  top  speed 
of  his  horse  —  which  was  not  fast  enough  to  boast  about. 

When  he  had  left  the  coulee  well  behind  him,  the 
Kid  rode  out  from  behind  a  clump  of  bushes  that  was  a 
mere  black  shadow  against  the  coulee  wall,  and  turned 
back  whence  he  had  come.  The  Kid  giggled  a  little 
over  the  way  he  had  fooled  the  pilgrim,  and  wished  that 
the  bunch  had  been  there  to  see  him  do  it.  He  kept 
Silver  galloping  until  he  had  reached  the  other  end  of 
the  level,  and  then  he  pulled  him  down  to  a  walk  and 


344    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

let  the  reins  drop  loosely  upon  Silver's  neck.  That 
was  what  Daddy  Chip  and  the  boys  had  told  him  he 
must  do,  next  time  he  got  lost  and  did  not  know  the  way 
home.  He  must  just  let  Silver  go  wherever  he  wanted 
to  go,  and  not  try  to  guide  him  at  all.  Silver  would  go 
straight  home ;  he  had  the  word  of  the  whole  hunch  for 
that,  and  he  believed  it  implicitly. 

Silver  looked  back  inquiringly  at  his  small  rider, 
hesitated  and  then  swung  back  up  the  coulee.  The  Kid 
was  afraid  that  H.  J.  Owens  would  come  back  and  see 
him  and  cut  off  his  ears  if  he  went  that  way  —  but  he 
did  not  pull  Silver  back  and  make  him  go  some  other 
way,  for  all  that.  If  he  left  him  alone,  Silver  would 
take  him  right  straight  home.  Daddy  Chip  and  the 
boys  said  so.  And  he  would  tell  them  how  mean  that 
man  was.  They  would  fix  him,  all  right ! 

Halfway  up  the  coulee  Silver  turned  into  a  narrow 
gulch  that  seemed  to  lead  nowhere  at  all  except  into  the 
side  of  a  big,  black-shadowed  bluff.  Up  on  the  hill- 
side a  coyote  began  to  yap  with  a  shrill  staccato  of 
sounds  that  trailed  off  into  a  disconsolate  whimper. 
The  Kid  looked  that  way  interestedly.  He  was  not 
afraid  of  coyotes.  They  would  not  hurt  anyone;  they 
were  more  scared  than  you  were  —  the  bunch  had  told 
him  so.  He  wished  he  could  get  a  sight  of  him,  though. 
He  liked  to  see  their  ears  stick  up  and  their  noses  stick 


"IT'S    EASY    TO    GET    LOST'      345 

out  in  a  sharp  point,  and  see  them  drop  their  tails  and 
go  sliding  away  out  of  sight.  When  he  was  ten  and 
Daddy  Chip  gave  him  a  gun,  he  would  shoot  coyotes 
and  skin  them  his  own  self. 

The  coyote  yapped  shrilly  again,  and  the  Kid  won- 
dered what  his  Doctor  Dell  would  say  when  he  got  home. 
He  was  terribly  hungry,  and  he  was  tired  and  wanted 
to  go  to  bed.  He  wished  the  bunch  would  happen  along 
and  fix  that  man.  His  heart  swelled  in  his  chest  with 
rage  and  disappointment  when  he  thought  of  those  baby 
bear  cubs  that  were  not  anywhere  at  all  —  because  the 
man  was  just  lying  all  the  time.  In  spite  of  himself 
the  Kid  cried  whimperingly  to  himself  while  he  rode 
slowly  up  the  gorge  which  Silver  had  chosen  to  follow 
because  the  reins  were  drooping  low  alongside  his  neck 
and  he  might  go  where  he  pleased. 

By  and  by  the  moon  rose  and  lightened  the  hills  so 
that  they  glowed  softly;  and  the  Kid,  looking  sleepily 
around  him,  saw  a  coyote  slinking  along  a  barren  slope. 
He  was  going  to  shout  at  it  and  see  it  run,  but  he  thought 
of  the  man  who  was  looking  for  him  and  glanced  fear- 
fully over  his  shoulder.  The  moon  shone  full  in  his 
face  and  showed  the  tear-streaks  and  the  tired  droop  to 
his  lips. 

The  Kid  thought  he  must  be  going  wrong,  because  at 
the  ranch  the  moon  came  up  in  another  place  alto- 


346    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

gether.  He  knew  about  the  moon.  Doctor  Dell  had 
explained  to  him  how  it  just  kept  going  round  and 
round  the  world  and  you  saw  it  when  it  came  up  over 
the  edge.  That  was  how  Santa  Glaus  found  out  if  kids 
were  good ;  he  lived  in  the  moon,  and  it  went  round  and 
round  so  he  could  look  down  and  see  if  you  were  bad. 
The  Kid  rubbed  the  tears  off  his  cheeks  with  his  palm, 
so  that  Santa  Glaus  could  not  see  that  he  had  been  cry- 
ing. After  that  he  rode  bravely,  with  a  consciously 
straight  spine,  because  Santa  Glaus  was  looking  at  him 
all  the  time  and  he  must  be  a  rell  ole  cowpuncher. 

After  a  long  while  the  way  grew  less  rough,  and 
Silver  trotted  down  the  easier  slopes.  The  Kid  was 
pretty  tired  now.  He  held  on  by  the  horn  of  his  saddle 
so  Silver  would  not  jolt  him  so  much.  He  was  terribly 
hungry,  too,  and  his  eyes  kept  going  shut.  But  Santa 
Glaus  kept  looking  at  him  to  see  if  he  were  a  dead  game 
sport,  so  he  did  not  cry  any  more.  He  wished  he  had 
some  grub  in  a  sack,  but  he  thought  he  must  be  nearly 
home  now.  He  had  come  a  terribly  far  ways  since  he 
ran  away  from  that  pilgrim  who  was  going  to  cut  off  his 
ears. 

The  Kid  was  so  sleepy  and  so  tired  that  he  almost 
fell  out  of  the  saddle  once  when  Silver,  who  had  been 
loping  easily  across  a  fairly  level  stretch  of  ground, 
slowed  abruptly  to  negotiate  a  washout  crossing.  He 


"IT'S    EASY    TO    GET    LOST'      347 

had  been  thinking  about  those  baby  bear  cubs  digging 
ants  and  eating  them.  He  had  almost  seen  them  doing 
it ;  but  he  remembered  now  that  he  was  going  home  to 
tell  the  bunch  how  the  man  had  lied  to  him  and  tried 
to  make  him  stay  down  here.  The  bunch  would  sure 
fix  him  when  they  heard  about  that. 

He  was  still  thinking  vengefully  of  the  punishment 
which  the  Happy  Family  would  surely  mete  out  to  H. 
J.  Owens  when  Silver  lifted  his  head,  looked  off  to  the 
right  and  gave  a  shrill  whinny.  Somebody  shouted, 
and  immediately  a  couple  of  horsemen  emerged  from  the 
shadow  of  a  hill  and  galloped  toward  him. 

The  Kid  gave  a  cry  and  then  laughed.  It  was  his 
Daddy  Chip  and  somebody.  He  thought  the  other  was 
Andy  Green.  He  was  too  tired  to  kick  Silver  in  the 
ribs  and  race  toward  them.  He  waited  until  they  came 
up,  their  horses  pounding  over  the  uneven  sod  urged  by 
the  jubilance  of  their  riders. 

Chip  rode  up  and  lifted  the  Kid  bodily  from  the 
saddle  and  held  him  so  tight  in  his  arms  that  the  Kid 
kicked  half-heartedly  with  both  feet,  to  free  himself. 
But  he  had  a  message  for  his  Daddy  Chip,  and  as  soon 
as  he  could  get  his  breath  he  delivered  it. 

"  Daddy  Chip,  I  just  want  you  to  kill  that  damnr 
pilgrim !  "  he  commanded.  "  There  wasn't  any  baby 
bear  cubs  at  all.  He  was  just  a-stringin'  me.  And  he 


348    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

was  going  to  cut  off  my  ears.  He  said  it  wasn't  a  far 
ways  to  where  the  baby  bear  eubs  lived  with  the  old 
mother  bear,  and  it  was.  I  wish  you'd  lick  the  stuffin' 
outa  him.  I'm  awful  hungry,  Daddy  Chip." 

"  We'll  be  home  pretty  quick,"  Chip  said  in  a  queer, 
choked  voice.  "  Who  was  the  man,  Buck  ?  Where  is 
he  now  ? " 

The  Kid  lifted  his  head  sleepily  from  his  Daddy 
Chip's  shoulder  and  pointed  vaguely  toward  the  moon. 
"  He's  the  man  that  jumped  Andy's  ranch  right  on  the 
edge  of  One  Man,"  he  explained.  "  He's  back  there 
ridin'  the  rim-rocks  a  lookin'  for  me.  I'd  a  come  home 
before,  only  he  wouldn't  let  me  come.  He  said  he'd 
cut  my  ears  off.  I  runned  away  from  him,  Daddy 
Chip.  And  I  cussed  him  a  plenty  for  lying  to  me  — 
but  you  needn't  tell  Doctor  Dell." 

"  I  won't,  Buck."  Chip  lifted  him  into  a  more  com- 
fortable position  and  held  him  so.  While  the  Kid  slept 
he  talked  with  Andy  about  getting  the  Happy  Family  on 
the  trail  of  H.  <T.  Owens.  Then  he  rode  thankfully 
home  with  the  Kid  in  his  arms  and  Silver  following 
docilely  after. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

AS    IT    TURNED    OUT 

THEY  found  H.  J.  Owens  the  next  forenoon  wan- 
dering hopelessly  lost  in  the  hills.  Since  kill- 
ing him  was  barred,  they  tied  his  arms  behind  him  and 
turned  him  toward  the  Plying  U.  He  was  sullen,  like 
an  animal  that  is  trapped  and  will  do  nothing  but  lie 
flattened  to  the  ground  and  glare  red-eyed  at  its  cap- 
tors. For  that  matter,  the  Happy  Family  themselves 
were  pretty  sullen.  They  had  fought  fire  for  hours  — 
and  that  is  killing  work;  and  they  had  been  in  the 
saddle  ever  since,  looking  for  the  Kid  and  for  this  man 
who  rode  bound  in  their  midst. 

Weary  and  Irish  and  Pink,  who  had  run  across  him 
in  a  narrow  canyon,  fired  pistol-shot  signals  to  bring 
the  others  to  the  spot.  But  when  the  others  emerged 
from  various  points  upon  the  scene,  there  was  very  little 
said  about  the  capture. 

In  town,  the  Old  Man  had  been  quite  as  eager  to  come 
close  to  Florence  Grace  Hallman  —  but  he  was  not  so 
lucky.  Florence  Grace  had  heard  the  news  of  the  fire 
a  good  half  hour  before  the  train  left  for  Great  Falls. 


350    FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

She  would  have  preferred  a  train  going  the  other  way, 
but  she  decided  not  to  wait.  She  watched  the  sick 
woman  put  aboard  the  one  Pullman  coach,  and  then  she 
herself  went  into  the  stuffy  day-coach.  [Florence  Grace 
Hallman  was  not  in  the  habit  of  riding  in  day-coaches 
in  the  night-time  when  there  was  a  Pullman  sleeper 
attached  to  the  train.  She  did  not  stop  at  Great  Falls ; 
she  went  on  to  Butte  —  and  from  there  I  do  not  know 
where  she  went.  Certainly  she  never  came  back. 

That,  of  course,  simplified  matters  considerably  for 
Florence  Grace  —  and  for  the  Happy  Family  as  well. 
For  at  the  preliminary  hearing  of  H.  J.  Owens  for  the 
high  crime  of  kidnapping,  that  gentleman  proceeded  to 
unburden  his  soul  in  a  way  that  would  have  horrified 
Florence  Grace,  had  she  been  there  to  hear.  Remem- 
ber, I  told  you  that  his  eyes  were  the  wrong  shade  of 
blue. 

A  man  of  whom  you  have  never  heard  tried  to  slip 
out  of  the  court  room  during  the  unburdening  process, 
and  was  stopped  by  Andy  Green,  who  had  been  keeping 
an  eye  on  him  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  fellow  had 
been  much  in  the  company  of  H.  J.  Owens  during  the 
week  preceding  the  fire  and  the  luring  away  of  the 
Kid.  The  sheriff  led  him  off  somewhere  —  and  so  they 
had  the  man  who  had  set  the  prairie  afire., 

As  is  the  habit  of  those  who  confess  easily  the  crimes 


AS    IT    TURNED    OUT          351 

of  others,  H.  J.  Owens  professed  himself  as  innocent  as 
he  consistently  could  in  the  face  of  the  Happy  Family 
and  of  the  Kid's  loud-whispered  remarks  when  he  saw 
him  there.  He  knew  absolutely  nothing  about  the  fire, 
he  said,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  setting  of  it» 
He  was  two  miles  away  at  the  time  it  started. 

And  then  Miss  Rosemary  Allen  took  the  witness 
stand  and  told  about  the  man  on  the  hilltop  and  the  bit 
of  mirror  that  had  flashed  sun-signals  toward  the  west. 
H.  J.  Owens  crimpled  down  visibly  in  his  chair.  Im- 
agine for  yourself  the  trouble  he  would  have  in  convinc- 
ing men  of  his  innocence  after  that. 

Just  to  satisfy  your  curiosity,  at  the  trial  a  month 
later  he  failed  absolutely  to  convince  the  jury  that  he 
was  anything  but  what  he  was  —  a  criminal  without 
the  strength  to  stand  by  his  own  friends.  He  was  sen- 
tenced to  ten  years  in  Deer  Lodge,  and  the  judge  in- 
formed him  that  he  had  been  dealt  with  leniently  at  that, 
because  after  all  he  was  only  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  the 
real  instigator  of  the  crime.  That  real  instigator,  by 
the  way,  was  never  apprehended.  The  other  man  —  he 
who  had  set  fire  to  the  prairie  —  got  six  years,  and 
cursed  the  judge  and  threatened  the  whole  Happy 
Family  with  death  when  the  sentence  was  passed  upon 
him  —  as  so  many  guilty  men  do. 

To  go  back  to  that  preliminary  trial:     The  Happy 


'.  f 


352     FLYING   U'S    LAST    STAND 

Family,  when  H.  J.  Owens  was  committed  safely  to 
the  county  jail,  along  with  the  fire-bug,  took  the  next 
train  to  Great  Falls  with  witnesses  and  the  Honorable 
Blake.  They  filed  their  answers  to  the  contests  two 
days  before  the  time-limit  had  expired.  You  may  call 
that  shaving  too  close  the  margin  of  safety.  But  the 
Happy  Family  did  not  worry  over  that  —  seeing  there 
was  a  margin  of  safety.  Nor  did  they  worry  over  the 
outcome  of  the  matter.  With  the  Homeseekers'  Syndi- 
cate in  extremely  bad  repute,  and  with  fully  half  of  the 
colonists  homeless  and  disgusted,  why  should  they  worry 
over  their  own  ultimate  success  ? 

They  planned  great  things  with  their  irrigation 
scheme.  ...  I  am  not  going  to  tell  any  more  about 
them  just  now.  Some  of  you  will  complain,  and  want 
to  know  a  good  many  things  that  have  not  been  told  in 
detail.  But  if  I  should  try  to  satisfy  you,  there  would 
be  no  more  meetings  between  you  and  the  Happy  Fam- 
ily —  since  there  would  be  no  more  to  tell. 

So  I  am  not  even  going  to  tell  you  whether  Andy  suc- 
ceeded in  persuading  Miss  Eosemary  Allen  to  go  with 
him  to  the  parson.  Nor  whether  the  Happy  Family 
really  did  settle  down  to  raise  families  and  alfalfa  and 
l>eards.  Not  another  thing  shall  you  know  about  them 
now. 

You  may  take  a  look  at  them  as  they  go  trailing  con- 


AS    IT    TURNED    OUT          353 

tentedly  away  from  the  land-office,  with  their  hats  tilted 
at  various  characteristic  angles  and  their  well-known 
voices  mingled  in  more  or  less  joyful  converse,  and  their 
toes  pointed  toward  Central  Avenue  and  certain  liquid 
refreshments.  You  need  not  worry  over  that  bunch, 
surely.  You  may  safely  leave  them  to  meet  future 
problems  and  emergencies  as  they  have  always  met  them 
in  the  past  —  on  their  feet,  with  eyes  that  do  not  waver 
or  flinch,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  ready  alike  for  grim 
fate  or  a  frolic. 


THE   END 


STIRRING    STORIES    OF  THE  WEST 
By  B.  M.  BOWER 


The  Flying  IPs  Last  Stand  $1.30  net 

What  happened  when  a  crowd  of  farmers  and  school  teachers 
encamped  on  the  grounds  of  Flying  U  Ranch. 

The  GringOS  Illustrated.     $1.25  net 

A  picturesque  story  of  California  in  the  days  of  the  Forty-niners 
which  is  "not  only  entertaining,  but  also  impartially 
realistic." — Chicago  Inter-  Ocean. 

Good  Indian  Illustrated.     $1.25  net 

There  is  excitement  and  action  on  every  page.  ...  A  some- 
what unusual  love  story  runs  through  the  story. — Boston 
Transcript. 

Lonesome  Land  illustrated.    $1.25  net 

The  author  has  dipped  a  little  more  deeply  into  the  inherent 
tragedies  of  "  raw,  new  lands."  .  .  .  The  pictures  of  the 
region  are  as  true  as  words  can  make  them. — NewYork  Times. 

The  Uphill  Climb  Illustrated.     $1.25  net 

It's  a  cowboy  who  has  an  uphill  fight  in  that  worst  of  all  fights 
—  a  fight  with  himself.  A  deep-toned,  human  note  is  struck 
in  this  narrative. — St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

The  Ranch  at  the  Wolverine  $1.30  net 

A  ringing  tale  full  of  exhilarating  cowboy  atmosphere,  abundantly 
and  absorbingly  illustrating  the  outstanding  feature  of  that 
alluring  ranch  life  which  is  fast  vanishing. — Chicago  Tribune. 


Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Publishers,  Boston 


A  Fascinating  Tale  of  Love,  Chivalry,  and  Danger 


THE  TURBULENT  DUCHESS 


By  PERCY  J.  BREBNER 
Frontispiece  by  F.  Vaux  Wilson.     $1.30  net 


In  "The  Turbulent  Duchess"  the  author  harks  back  to  the 
days  when  empires  were  in  the  making. 

The  Duchess  of  Mr.  Brebner's  new  story  combines  with  her 
charm  of  beautiful  and  impulsive  womanhood  a  keen  mind  and 
a  steadfast  determination  to  keep  her  little  kingdom  of  Podina 
free  from  the  grasp  of  its  greedy  neighbors.  Naturally  she  is 
the  center  of  plots  and  counterplots,  but  always  she  manages  to 
evade  the  traps  of  her  enemies  and  is  extricated  from  her  perils 
by  the  aid  of  Bergolet,  her  court  jester.  Bergolet  is  a  jester 
in  truth,  one  whose  wits  outrun  the  courtiers,  whose  songs  arouse 
them  to  love  of  war,  whose  bravery  rings  true  though  hidden 
behind  his  motley,  and  whose  elusive  personality  awakens  the 
woman  in  the  Duchess. 

Mr.  Brebner  has  never  conceived  a  better  story  than  this  ac- 
count of  the  turbulent  duchess  who  held  Podina  against  French 
king  and  German  princeling,  who  satisfied  the  clamorous  de- 
mands of  her  own  fickle  subjects,  and  who  had  the  courage  and 
daring  to  seize  her  own  happiness,  regardless  of  its  strange 
guise  —  and  all  because  she  persisted  in  the  ancient  custom  of 
keeping  at  court  a  jester,  whose  name  was  Bergolet. 


LITTLE,    BROWN   &    CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 


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